Linda Abrams

“I WISH I COULD SPEAK LIKE MUSIC I wish I could speak like music. I wish I could put the swaying splendor
Of the fields into words So that you could hold Truth
Against your body
And dance. I am trying the best I can
With this crude brush, the tongue, To cover you with light. I wish I could speak like divine music. I want to give you the sublime rhythms
Of this earth and the sky’s limbs As they joyously spin and surrender,
Surrender
Against God’s luminous breath. Hafiz wants you to hold me
Against your precious
Body And dance,
Dance.”
― Hafez, The Gift: Poems Inspired by Hafiz, the Great Sufi Master

“Speak

Speak, your lips are free.
Speak, it is your own tongue.
Speak, it is your own body.
Speak, your life is still yours.

See how in the blacksmith's shop
The flame burns wild, the iron glows red;
The locks open their jaws,
And every chain begins to break.

Speak, this brief hour is long enough
Before the death of body and tongue:
Speak, 'cause the truth is not dead yet,
Speak, speak, whatever you must speak.”
― Faiz Ahmad Faiz

“the hidden secret of love is the fevered soul”
― Faiz Ahmad Faiz

“Be near me"

Be near me now,
My tormenter, my love, be near me—
At this hour when night comes down,
When, having drunk from the gash of sunset, darkness comes
With the balm of musk in its hands, its diamond lancets,
When it comes with cries of lamentation,
                                             with laughter with songs;
Its blue-gray anklets of pain clinking with every step.
At this hour when hearts, deep in their hiding places,
Have begun to hope once more, when they start their vigil
For hands still enfolded in sleeves;
When wine being poured makes the sound
                                             of inconsolable children
                      who, though you try with all your heart,
                                             cannot be soothed.
When whatever you want to do cannot be done,
When nothing is of any use;
—At this hour when night comes down,
When night comes, dragging its long face,
                                             dressed in mourning,
Be with me,
My tormenter, my love, be near me.            

 Faiz Ahmed Faiz, The True Subject. Translated by Naomi Lazard. (Princeton University Press. 1987)

”
― Faiz Ahmad Faiz, The True Subject: Selected Poems