Hazrat Inayat Khan, from the Gayan.


Thy light has illuminated the dark chambers of my mind.
Thy love is rooted in the depth of my heart.
Thine own eyes are the light of my soul.
Thy power worketh behind my action.
Thy peace alone is my life’s repose.
Thy will is behind my every impulse.
Thy voice is audible in the words I speak.
Thine own image is my countenance.
My body is but a cover over Thy soul.
My life is Thy very breath, my Beloved,
and my self is Thine own being.

Thou pourest wine into my empty cup wherever we meet,
on hills, on dales, on the tops of the high mountains,
in the thick forests and in the barren deserts,
on the shores of the roaring sea and on the banks of the gentle river.
And there ariseth in my heart the unearthly passion and the heavenly joy.

Thou hast won my heart a thousand times over.
Thou comest veiled under many and varied guises,
and in every guise Thou art unique.
Who is not attracted by the splendour
Thou hast so skilfully produced on the face of the earth?
In this beauty fair Thou shinest
adorned in myriad garbs.
Thine own is all the beauty and Thou shinest,
and yet art not Thyself attracted by it.
Thou on this stage of life actest as friend and foe,
and Thou alone seest the play performed so wonderfully.
I sought Thee so long, my Beloved,
and now I have found Thee at last, O Winner of my heart.
And in finding Thee I have lost myself.

Let me feel Thine arms around me, my Beloved,
while I am wandering away from home.
Let my heart become Thy lute;
hearing Thy song my soul cometh to life.
Let my virgin soul dance at Thy court, my Indra,
the passion it hath is for Thee alone.
O let me lean my head on Thy breast;
Thine arms enfolding me, my feet touch Paradise.

Wherever I look I see Thy beloved face, covered under many different veils.
The magic power of my ever-seeking eyes lifted the veil from Thy glowing countenance,
and Thy smile won my heart a thousand times over.
The lustre of Thy piercing glance hath lighted my darkened soul, and
lo! now I see the sun shine everywhere.

In the brightness of the day and in the darkness of the night
what didst Thou not teach me?
Thou hast taught me what is meant by wrong and what is called right.
Thou hast shown me the hideous face of life,
and Thou hast unveiled before me life’s beautiful countenance.
Thou hast taught me wisdom out of utter darkness of ignorance.
Thou hast taught me to think after my thoughtless moments.
Thou playest with me, my beloved Lord and Master, hide and seek.
Thou closest mine eyes, and Thou dost open them.

When we are face to face, Beloved,
I do not know whether to call Thee me, or me Thee.
I see myself when Thou art not before me.
When I see Thee, my self is lost to view.
I consider it good fortune when Thou art alone with me,
but when I am not there at all, I think it the greatest blessing.

Thy whisper to the ears of my heart
moveth my soul to ecstasy.
The waves of joy that rise out of my heart
form a net in which Thy living word may swing.
My heart patiently awaiteth Thy word,
deaf to all that cometh from without.
O Thou, who art enshrined in my heart, speak again to me.
Thy voice exalteth my spirit.

When Thou art before me, my Beloved,
I rise upon wings and my burden becomes light.
But when my little self riseth before my eyes,
I drop to earth and all its weight falleth upon me.

My soul is moved to dance by the charm of Thy graceful movements
and my heart beateth the rhythm of Thy dancing steps.
The deep impression of Thy sweet countenance, O Winner of my heart,
covereth all visible things from my sight.
My heart repeateth a thousand times the melody Thou playest on the flute.
It setteth my soul in harmony with the whole universe.

I dare not think of raising mine eyes to behold Thy glorious vision.
I sit quietly by the lake of my heart watching in it Thine image reflected.

Thou givest me Thine own love, and Thou winnest my heart with the charm of Thy beauty.
When I approach Thee, my Beloved, Thou sayest to me, “Touch me not”.

I cling to Thee with a child’s faith, bearing Thy most lovely image in my heart.
I sought refuge in Thy bosom, Beloved, and I am safe, feeling Thine arms around me.

How shall I thank Thee, my King, for Thy bountiful gifts?
Every gift Thou givest me, my generous Lord, is invaluable.
A tongue of flame arose out of the twinkling spark in my heart by Thy gentle blowing.
Thou hast opened the ears of my heart, that I may hear Thy softest whisper.
Thou hast taught me Thine own tongue, and to read the characters written by Thy pen.

I call Thee my King, when I am conscious of my bubble-like self,
but when I am conscious of Thee, my Beloved, I call Thee me.

How shall I thank Thee for Thy mercy and compassion,
O King of my soul? What didst Thou not unto me?
When I was walking alone through the wilderness,
through the darkness of night,
Thou camest with Thy lighted torch
and didst illuminate my path.
Frozen with the coldness of the world’s hardness of heart,
I sought refuge in Thee,
And Thou didst console me with Thine endless love.
I knocked at Thy gate at last,
when I had no answer from anywhere in the world,
And Thou didst readily answer the call of my broken heart.

I searched but I could not find Thee.
I called Thee aloud standing on the minaret,
I rang the temple bell with the rising and the setting of the sun,
I bathed in the Ganges in vain,
I came back from Ka’ba disappointed,
I looked for Thee on the earth,
I searched for Thee in the Heaven, my Beloved,
but at last I have found Thee,
hidden as a pearl in the shell of my heart.

I would willingly die a thousand deaths,
if by dying I could attain Thy most lofty presence.
If it were a cup of poison Thy beloved hand offered,
I would prefer that poison to the bowl of nectar.
I value the dust under Thy feet, my Precious One,
most of all the treasures the earth holds.
If my head would touch the earth of Thy dwelling place,
I would proudly refuse Khusrow’s crown.
I would gladly sacrifice all pleasures the earth can offer me,
if I could only retain Thy pain in my feeling heart.

One moment’s life lived with Thee is worth more than a life of long years lived in Thine absence.

My life-long sorrow I forget, when Thou castest Thy glance upon me.
Time is not for me. One glimpse of Thy glorious vision maketh me eternal.

It is Thou who art my pride.
When I realize my limited self, I feel myself humblest of all living beings.

O Thou, the seed of my life’s plant,
Thou wert hidden so long in my bud-like soul.
But now Thou hast come out, O my life’s fruit,
after the blossoming of my heart.

Let me grow quietly in Thy garden as a speechless plant,
that some day my flowers and fruits may sing the legend of my silent past.

Thy music causeth my soul to dance.
In the murmur of the wind I hear Thy flute,
The waves of the sea keep the rhythm of my dancing steps.
Through the whole of nature I hear Thy music played, my Beloved,
My soul, while dancing, speaketh of its joy in song.

Thy smile has brought my dead heart to life again.
My life and death depend upon the closing and disclosing of Thy magic glance.

O give me one more cup, O Sakhi,
which I will value more than the whole life I have lived.
–Hazrat Inayat Khan

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