Fly Higher

I said: I am so small I can barely be seen
How can this great love be inside me?

And he said: your eyes are even smaller
Yet they behold the world

Stop the words now
Open the window in the centre of your chest
And let the spirits fly in and out

House Of Mercy

From the beginning of my life

I have been looking for your face
but today I have seen it
Today I have seen the charm,
the beauty
the unfathomable grace of the face
that I was looking for

Today I have found you
and those who laughed and scorned me yesterday
are sorry that they were not looking as I did

I am bewildered by the magnificence of your beauty
and wish to see you with a hundred eyes

My heart has burned with passion
and has searched forever f
or this wondrous beauty that I now behold

I am ashamed to call this love human
and afraid of God to call it divine
Your fragrant breath like the
morning breeze
has come to the stillness of the garden

You have breathed new life into me
I have become your sunshine and also your shadow

My soul is screaming in ecstacy
Every fiber of my being is in love with you
Your efflugence has lit a
fire
in my heart for me the earth and sky

My arrow of love has arrived at the target
I am in the house of mercy
and my heart is a place of prayer

Rumi

All'anima mia - Soul

Dell'inesausta tua miseria godi.
Tanto ti valga, anima mia, sapere;
sì che il tuo male, null'altro, ti giovi.

O forse avventurato è chi s'inganna?
né a se stesso scoprirsi ha in suo potere,
né mai la sua sentenza lo condanna?

Magnanima sei pure, anima nostra;
ma per quali non tuoi casi t'esalti,
sì che un bacio mentito indi ti prostra.

A me la mia miseria è un chiaro giorno
d'estate, quand'ogni aspetto dagli alti
luoghi discopro in ogni suo contomo.

Nulla m'è occulto; tutto è sì vicino
dove l'occhio o il pensiero mi conduce.
Triste ma sollegiato è il mio cammino;

e tutto in esso, fino l'ombra, è in luce.

Umberto Saba

You delight in your unending misery.
Such, my soul, should be the worth of knowledge,
that your suffering alone should do you good.

Or is the self-deceived the lucky one?
He who cannot ever know himself
or the sentence of his condemnation?

Still, my soul, you are magnaminous;
yet how you thrill to phantom opportunities,
and so are brought down by a faithless kiss.

To me my misery is a bright summer
day, where from high up I can make out
every facet, every detail of the world below.

Nothing is obscure to me; it's all right there,
wherever my eye or my mind leads me.
My road is sad but brightened by the sun;

and everything on it, even shadow, is in light.