Mawqif of the Path of Knowledge

He stopped me on my way & said to me:

"The path of knowledge doesn't bring me to you out of some hiding place or hidden hiding thing; it's that which hidden place & hiding hidden won’t acquaint you with. You know me by my attribute that has no adjective; a breath to you, who crave nothing in its place; a thing you learn, & nothing after gain."

al Niffari

To a suicide's room

Did you always feel aired out?
A bleated, empty O; pathetic

parenthetic, the walls ringing
for that which they’re without; was it

always so? Or does this open seeming
space stammer with your loss --

ocean breadth in which
the act's carried out, & out ?

That hint of loss necessary to keep belonging still belonging, and its shock -- so resolutely happening upon us like a bolt of lightning: I can’t put it down in writing. Whose head is set sailing through the world in love, in love is apart; and with the body that dangles impossibly behind, needs another lash before they remember altogether how to tread.

“If you see my mouth open, make a mark (Ah) above the letter, in the air. If I close my mouth, put the mark (O) before the letter, if I bare my teeth, bury a mark (I) under the letter; each movement a syllable and each syllable a sound.”

Movements, Musa -- mo’ments
lead to nowhere, unlike a letter:

the former being open and
undocumented, the latter –

accusations; La La,
is it be’er

to be exact, carving the air
we sound, or caught

mumuring & all the world hears?
A barbarous barber's cut:

two lambs
I dash, in your name,

two tongues that hold
the mouth still open

to see if you answer
to it; a mutilated

air.

The house is near

That house's near to mine that grows
farther from one who's far from it.

I saw the feast & found it ugly; seeing
no one drunk; though people throng,

with you out of sight,
I can’t make out a one.


Abu Nuwas


يا قريب الدار من داري و قد
زاد في البعد على من بعدا

فد شهدت العيد فاستسمجته
ذاك ان لم تك فيمن شهدا

حوالي الناس كأني لا ارى
منهم اذ غبت عني احدا

ابو نواس