At the peak of my soul’s depths

I sit in silent reverie

The sun above, weather below

The vast blue breathes in, out of me

 

The Snow Man
by Wallace Stevens

One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;

And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter

Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,

Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place

For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.

 

Hafez says…

          حافظ سخن بگوی که بر صفحه جهان    

این نقش ماند از قلمت یادگار عمر

 

But those whose lives are centered on

Your lovely mouth confess

No other thoughts than this, and think

Nothing of Nothingness

 

                  بيا و هستي حافظ ز پيش او برد

که با وجود تو کس نشنود ز من که منم

 

Come, and make sure Hafez’s being

will disappear-

Since You exist, no one will hear

Me say, “I’m here.”