<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094</id><updated>2012-03-14T13:00:02.055-04:00</updated><category term='Abu Nuwas'/><category term='Khidr Series'/><category term='mawqif'/><category term='Niffari'/><category term='translation'/><category term='Layla and Majnun'/><category term='Mutanabbi'/><category term='Hallaj'/><title type='text'>BARBAR | a poetry and translation blog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default?start-index=101&amp;max-results=100'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>151</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-6417217232979111789</id><published>2012-02-04T14:21:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T14:29:35.068-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hallaj'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>Tawasin of the Secrets in Unity</title><content type='html'>An image of the tawasin of the secretes in unity:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img height="56" src="http://www.leapinglaughter.org/archive/tawasin/HALLAJ_SELF_AWARE.GIF" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;Secrets tend from Him &amp;amp; towards Him, &amp;amp; are spread in Him with no sense of necessity. Those secrets from Him alarm, &amp;amp; those toward Him tend, for He is spread. The pronoun of unity is His pronoun, for “I” is hidden. The pronoun of the hidden is His “H.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I said “Wah,” they’d say “Ah.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Varieties &amp;amp; types, &amp;amp; signs don’t pry into the Unknown, “as if they formed a tightly sealed building.” It is one. His oneness doesn’t turn towards the One. The One is one &amp;amp; the attributes of the one tend toward what’s bounded; the Unified lacks boundaries. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The True is the refuge of the True, not the True itself. Unity didn’t speak; speech &amp;amp; truth don’t prove creation true, so how would they do so for the True?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That which takes form is nothing but substance. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That which doesn’t part with body is nothing but body.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That which doesn’t part with the spirit for a moment is nothing but spirit. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Verily we are spiritual digestions returning to what contained in him -- from what’s contained in Him &amp;amp; His digestion; from His word &amp;amp; His destruction; from His carried load.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first circle is for actions. The second circle is for traces. These are the circles of the two existences. The point is the meaning of unity, not unity itself; how would the circle be separate, if so?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- al Hallaj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-6417217232979111789?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6417217232979111789'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6417217232979111789'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2012/02/tawasin-of-secrets-in-unity.html' title='Tawasin of the Secrets in Unity'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-2898775271226835306</id><published>2012-01-22T23:17:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-04T14:30:08.908-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hallaj'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>Tawasin of Unity</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&amp;nbsp;The True is one, unique &amp;amp; lone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oneness &amp;amp; unity are in Him and from Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s an image of this meaning:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a href="data:image/png;base64,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" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" height="33" src="data:image/png;base64,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" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Knowledge of His unity is solitary &amp;amp; discrete. This is an image of that knowledge:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" height="76" src="data:image/png;base64,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" width="200" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unity is an attribute of the unifier, not the unified with. If I say “I,” he says “I.” It’s for you, not for him. If I say “Unity returns to the unifier," &amp;amp; if I asked “how does one already unified return to unity?” &amp;amp; if I answered “from the unifier to the unified with,” then He appears attached in His lonesomeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I say “the unity comes from His creation,” then his Essence becomes two essences, &amp;amp; that which converges with an essence. When the Essence isn’t essential, then it’s an essence, inessential. He disappeared when He revealed; where’d He go where there’s nowhere? O that &amp;amp; this can't be comprised. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- al Hallaj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-2898775271226835306?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2898775271226835306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2898775271226835306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2012/01/tawasin-of-unification.html' title='Tawasin of Unity'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-6085455207152436949</id><published>2012-01-21T19:34:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-22T22:30:32.553-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hallaj'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>Tawasin of Divine Will</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" height="121" 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" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first circle is his will; the second is his rule; the third is his power; the fourth is his knowledge &amp;amp; his pre-eternity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iblis said: “If I entered the first circle I would be tried by the second. If I was made to pass the second, I would be tried by the third. If I was satisfied with the third, I would be tried by the fourth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So no, no, no, no, no. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if I stayed at the first, I'd be cursed until the second, &amp;amp; rejected until the third. What's the fourth to me? If I knew that bowing would save me, I would have bowed, but I knew that there were circles beyond this circle. I said, in my state: “If I’m saved from this circle, how will I be rescued from the second &amp;amp; the third &amp;amp; the fourth?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fifth alif is Him, the Ever Living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- al Hallaj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-6085455207152436949?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6085455207152436949'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6085455207152436949'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2012/01/tawasin-of-divine-will.html' title='Tawasin of Divine Will'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-2513998979551599393</id><published>2012-01-21T19:11:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-02-17T12:17:49.269-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hallaj'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>Tawasin of Pre-Eternity and Obscurity</title><content type='html'>The Curious High Master Abu’l Magith (may Allah be merciful to him) said: There was calling more fit for anyone than Iblis &amp;amp; Ahmed (peace be unto him), but Iblis fell from the Source, &amp;amp; Ahmed was shown the source of the Source. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iblis was told “Bow” &amp;amp; Ahmed was told “Look;” the one didn’t bow &amp;amp; the other didn’t look, nor did he turn left or right; “his eye didn’t swerve or stray.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for Iblis -- he called out, but he never returned to his state. Ahmed announced himself, &amp;amp; refrained from his state by saying “for you, I transform &amp;amp; for you, I leap,” &amp;amp; “O beater of hearts,” &amp;amp; “I can’t amass enough praise for you.” There was no monotheist among the kin of Heaven like Iblis. When the Source altered before Iblis, &amp;amp;, he was separated from glances on his way; when he worshipped the Worshipped in isolation, &amp;amp; was damned upon reaching solitariness; when he was interrogated for asking for the utmost -- Allah said &amp;nbsp;“Bow (before Adam)" &amp;amp; he said “to no other.” Allah asked &amp;nbsp;“even if my damnation be upon you?” He said “to no other.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My denial, in you, is a hallowing;&lt;br /&gt;my reason, in you, is a folly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is Adam, before you?&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; who is, furthermore, Iblis?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why would I follow anyone but You,&lt;br /&gt;when, for your love, I’m already lowly?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Allah said: “You were proud.” Iblis said: “If I had a glance at you, pride and tyranny would suit me; I’m him who knew you since pre-eternity -- the ‘best of them,’ with a share in your service. There’s no one in existence more familiar with you than me. In you, there’s a desire for me, just as there’s a desire for You in me. Your desire preceded Adam. Whether I bowed to any else or didn’t bow, I’d still return to my origin: you created me from fire, which returns to fire. The estimation &amp;amp; the choice are yours. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was no distance, for me, after yours, after&lt;br /&gt;I learned that distance and nearness are one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I separated from you, separation was my friend;&lt;br /&gt;how true it seems that love and separation are one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glory be to you, in your purity and genuineness&lt;br /&gt;for the pious slave, who didn’t bow to any other One.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Musa met Iblis on the side of Mount Sinai &amp;amp; said: “O Iblis, what kept you from bowing?” Iblis replied: “It was my declaration for a singular Worshipped. If I bowed, I'd be like you; you were told to ‘look at the mountain’ only once &amp;amp; you looked. I was told to bow a thousand times, but I didn’t, because of my substance's calling. Musa said: “didn't you neglect a command?” Iblis answered: “It was a trial, not a command.” Musa asked: "didn’t the sin alter your image?” Iblis replied: “O Musa, that image is a garb; the true state isn't bound by it, for it's unchanging. Gnosis remains right as it always was, &amp;amp; doesn’t change even if the gnostic does.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His memory is mine &amp;amp; my memory is his;&lt;br /&gt;what else are these two memories but mutual?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My service now is purer; my time is freer; my memory is clearer. I served him for my sake, before eternity; now I serve Him for His. We lifted greed from prevention, repellent, impairment, and usefulness. He isolated me; he found me; he baffled me; he banished me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He prevented me from altering, because of my change. He altered me because of my bafflement. He baffled me because of my exile. He made me forbidden because of my companionship. He made me repulsive because of my praise. He consecrated me because of my separation. He separated me because of my exposure. He exposed me because of my arrival. He made me arrive because of my obstacle. He blocked me to prevent my strength.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He corrected what I mistook in notion. I didn’t refuse his estimation; I gave no thought to my image's change. Through all of this, I maintained the estimation. If He punished me with eternal fire, I wouldn’t bow to any else; I wouldn’t humble myself to any man or anybody; I wouldn’t know opposition, because my calling wouldn’t be sincere. Through love, I'm one of the sincerest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are several reports regarding the states of Azazyl [Iblis before the fall]. One relates how he was called to Heaven &amp;amp; Earth: in Heaven he addressed the angels, showing them Goodness; on Earth, he addressed men &amp;amp; jinn, showing them Repulsiveness, since things are known by their opposites -- behold, the delicate garment is woven behind black wool. Thus angels display goodness &amp;amp; say to one who’s good: “Do it, &amp;amp; be rewarded.” But he who didn’t know repulsiveness, wouldn’t know goodness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I debated with Iblis &amp;amp; Pharoah about nobleness. Iblis said: “If I bowed, my noble name would have fallen.” Pharoah said: “ If I believed in His messenger, I would have fallen from my noble name.” I said: “If I refrained from my calling &amp;amp; my speech, I would have fallen from my noble rank.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iblis said: “I’m better than him,” when he didn’t see any but himself altered. Pharoah said: “I know no other god for you all but myself,” when he didn’t know his people could distinguish between True &amp;amp; False. I said: “If you don’t know him, then know His signs. I'm that sign, &amp;amp; the True; I stay true forever with the True.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iblis &amp;amp; Pharoah are my companions &amp;amp; my masters. Iblis was ruined by fire, but he didn’t deny his calling. Pharaoh drowned in the sea &amp;amp; didn’t deny his calling – after determining there was no mediator. He said “I believed in no god but He, in whom the tribe of Israel believed.” Don’t you see that Allah in his glory resisted Jibril? He said “why did you fill his mouth with sand?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would be killed or crucified, or I would lose my hands &amp;amp; legs, if I denied my calling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The name Iblis is derived from his other name. He changed the “ayn” for the attachment of his intention; and “zay,” for the growth of his excess in his excess; “alif,” for his increase in affection; the second “zay,” for his renunciation of rank; “ya,” for his search for the knowledge of his precedence; &amp;amp; “lam” for his quarrel during (in) his trial. Allah told him: “Bow, O vile one.” He said: “I’m a lover, &amp;amp; all lovers must be vile, since you call me such. I read all of this in a Revealed Book. O Powerful and Firm, how could I lower myself to Adam? You had ‘created me from fire &amp;amp; created him from earth.’ Those opposites don’t reconcile. I served you longer; I was greater in favor; I was wiser in wisdom (‘ilm); I was riper in age.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The True told him: “The choice is mine, not yours.” He replied: “All choices, including mine, are yours. You chose this for me, O creator.&amp;nbsp; If you prevented me from bowing to him, you were the preventer. If my tongue errs, you don’t abandon me, for you’re All Hearing. If you willed me to bow, I’d be obedient; there’s no one among the gnostics more knowledgeable than me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don’t blame me, for blame is far&lt;br /&gt;from me; reward me, Lord, for I’m but one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If, in promise, your promise is truly true,&lt;br /&gt;in beginning, the beginning of my call is firm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To whoso wishes to record my speech:&lt;br /&gt;read &amp;amp; know that I’m a martyr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O brother, he was named Azazyl because he was removed (‘azl) &amp;amp; was remote in his sovereignty. He didn’t return from his beginning to an end, because he never left his end. His exit was cast back in the steadiness of his kindling. He was set ablaze by the fire of his marriage &amp;amp; the light of his title. His ailment was thirst &amp;amp; dubiousness. His wreck was sick &amp;amp; sparkling.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O brother, if you understand, you’ve picturingly pictured the Picture. &amp;amp; deludingly deluded the Delusion. You’ve returned afflicted &amp;amp; been annihilated anxiously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The most eloquent of the people, before His door, went mute. His gnostics grew too enfeebled for what they learned. Only Iblis was more familiar with bowing than them, &amp;amp; closer to existence than them, &amp;amp; most generous in effort than them, &amp;amp; more loyal to the Entrusted than them &amp;amp; more closely drawn to the Worshipped than them. The others bowed to Adam for help. Iblis denied bowing, for a long period of observation. His command got confused &amp;amp; his thoughts grew dark, so he said “I’m better than him,” &amp;amp; he stayed in the veil &amp;amp; he rolled in the dust, &amp;amp; made himself forever damned forever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- al Hallaj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-2513998979551599393?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2513998979551599393'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2513998979551599393'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2012/01/tawasin-of-pre-eternity-and-obscurity.html' title='Tawasin of Pre-Eternity and Obscurity'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7787986732152251071</id><published>2012-01-09T19:41:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-23T15:16:32.112-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hallaj'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>Tawasin of the Point</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;More particular than the Circle is the matter of the Point –the origin that doesn’t grow, or shrink, or pass away. The denier dwells in the first circle; he denies my state, when he can’t see me. He dubs me “unbeliever” &amp;amp; accuses me of evil. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoso sees my glory in the forbidden circle cries out to me for vision. Whoso wields the second circle thinks I’m the Divine Scholar. Whoso reaches the third supposes I’m secure. Whoso reaches the circle of truth forgets me &amp;amp; vanishes from my sight. “There is no refuge; that day your resting place is for your Lord. Man will be informed of what he set forth &amp;amp; deferred.” Man takes to tales &amp;amp; makes off for refuge. He fears the sparks. He’s blind &amp;amp; blinded. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I once encountered a bird among the flock of winged Sufis. He denied my glory, though he continued to fly. He asked me about purity; I told him “Cut your wings with the shears of annihilation, or else don't follow me.” He said: “I fly with these wings.” I replied: “Alas; ‘there’s nothing like Him, the All Seeing &amp;amp; Hearing.’” This Sufi stopped, one day, upon the sea of understanding, &amp;amp; drowned. This is the image of that sea:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a 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" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw my lord with my eye’s heart;&lt;br /&gt;I asked “who are you?” He said “you.” &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But “where” from you is nowhere&lt;br /&gt;And there’s no where regarding you;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You are that which touches everywhere&lt;br /&gt;as far as nowhere, so where are you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Delusion holds no dream of you,&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; only Where knows where you are. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first point is from the circle of Thoughts; understanding of one of them is true. The second point is false. He drew near loftily, then returned toweringly. He drew near seeking, then returned overjoyed. He kept far from his direction &amp;amp; he drew near to his Lord. He stayed (bata) at his heart &amp;amp; drew near to his Lord. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was absent when he saw me. He wasn’t absent. How was he present while not present? How did he look without looking? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He startled, so he recognized. He recognized, so he startled. He witnessed, so he was witnessed. He arrived, so he was divided. He arrived at his desire, so he was divided from his inner heart; “the heart didn’t forge what it saw.” Allah concealed him, so He drew him near. He entrusted him, so He purified him. He made him thirst, so He fed him. He purified him, so He chose him. He called him, so He invited him. He afflicted him, so He healed him. He shielded him, so He made him saddle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There stretched “bow length,” when he repented &amp;amp; reached his aim. He was called, so he answered. He saw, so he went absent. He drank, so he was sated. He drew near, so he startled. He parted from cities, helpers, secrets, look, visions, &amp;amp; traces: “your friend didn’t stray.” He didn’t weaken &amp;amp; didn’t tire. His eye didn’t weaken from Where, or tire from When. “Your friend didn’t stray” in our dwelling or our conduct. “Your friend didn’t stray” in the garden of remembrance (dhikr), before our view. “He didn’t err” in the wandering of thought; he was mindful of the True in breaths &amp;amp; blinks, &amp;amp; thankful to Him for trials &amp;amp; gifts. “There’s nothing but revelation revealed” from Light to Light. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Overturn speech &amp;amp; absent yourself from delusions. Raise your feet above man &amp;amp; creature. Separate His Order &amp;amp; orders. Be infatuated with infatuation. Rise, so you may fly between mountains &amp;amp; fields -- the mountains of understanding &amp;amp; the fields of peace – &amp;amp; see what lies therein. The fast ends at the Sacred (Forbidden) House. So he drew near, as if he drew near to the meaning. Then he quarantined himself, like a feeble one unlike the feeble. He went from the station of correction to the station of discipline; from the station of discipline to the station of nearness. He drew near seeking so he returned fleeing. He drew near calling, so he returned crying out. He drew near answering &amp;amp; returned near. He drew near witnessing &amp;amp; returned watching. “There were two bow lengths.” He hit “Where” with the arrow of “Between.” He established “two bows” to verify “Where,” or make it absent. The Source drew near through the Source’s source. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Strange Master, al-Hussain ibn Mansur al-Hallaj (may God be merciful to him) said: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t think our words will be understood except to him who’s reached the second bow – the one below the tablet. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It contains many letters that aren’t Arabic, except one: Meem – the letter signifying the Last Name (Muhammad): this is the string of the first bow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[He who rules the second bow is the Kingdom &amp;amp; the first bow. Sovereignty acts omnipotently.&amp;nbsp; The second bow is the Sovereignity of the Kingdom. Sovereignity is an attribute of the two bows; it contains a specific revelation where the arrow points to Nothingness. The arrow is the two bows.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Who lights the defect, Allah said of him: his clarity of speech is in the meaning of nearing. The True bestowed the meaning of the truth; it doesn’t belong to the mode of Creation. Nearing is an exact circle.&amp;nbsp; Truth is true of truths, in the particle of particulars: in past testimonies; in the lover’s description of longing; in the cut off vision of those bound to the saddles of insolence; in the persistence of misfortune &amp;amp; the revelation of particulars; in the enunciation of deliverance; in the path of the select; in the nearing of he who is broad for understanding of its importance, which is the observed, transmitted, &amp;amp; prophetic tradition.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of this matter that was safeguarded &amp;amp; protected in a hidden book, the Master Yathrib (peace be unto him) said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As was mentioned in a “written &amp;amp; visible book” on the meaning of the conference of birds: He “moved us” until “there stood two bow lengths,” because the Source shoots. So lover, understand – if you’ve so far understood – the Almighty doesn’t address any but kin – &amp;amp; kin from kin, &amp;amp; kin of kin; He is Him who has no master or disciple, who has no choice or preference, who has no caution, who has no attire, who has no through, &amp;amp; who has no from; what’s in Him in Him. He’s in Him, no in him’s in Him; He’s a desert in a desert &amp;amp; a sign in a sign. His meanings are public, and His meaning is His hope. His hopes are far. His path is hard. His name is glorious. His symbol is singular. His knowledge is His indefiniteness. His indefiniteness is His truth. His value is His deed. His name is His path. His naming is his fire. Desire is His attribute.&amp;nbsp; Moral law is His character. The suns are his courtyard. The souls are his portico. The familiarized are his animal. The effacement is His glory. The teachers are His witness.&amp;nbsp; The bride is His garden. The effacement is His edifice. His lords are my refuge. His principles are my gift. Their desire is my question. His helpers are my way station. His sorrows are my mishap... His saying is “Be.” So one supposes. What's below Him angers Him. By Allah is the only success.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Hallaj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7787986732152251071?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7787986732152251071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7787986732152251071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2012/01/tawasin-of-point.html' title='Tawasin of the Point'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1559080706668330924</id><published>2012-01-07T14:49:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-09T13:20:03.039-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hallaj'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>Tawasin of the Circle</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img alt="" height="117" src="data:image/png;base64,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" width="200" /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;The first reached it. The second reached it &amp;amp; got cut off. The third got lost in the desert of truth’s truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bah is the second door in the circle, represented by ب . This door is for arrivals: whoso passes it arrives. The third door is the desert of the truth. The door represented by ب standing opposite the other doors &amp;amp; beneath the second circle -- that door is truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whoso enters the circle – the way is blocked for him; whoso seeks is driven back. The high point is his intention. The low point is his return to origin. The middle point is his bewilderment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The low point, returning him to the origin, seeks the right side; the middle point bewilders him – the way through the center leads to the left.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The circle has no doors. The point in the middle of the circle is the truth. The meaning of the truth is that from which outward &amp;amp; inward aren’t absent, &amp;amp; that which doesn’t welcome forms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you wish to understand what I’ve thus shown, “take four birds &amp;amp; twist them towards you” -- for the True doesn’t fly. Jealously brought it after absence. Awe obstructed it. Bewilderment stole it. These are the meanings of the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Subtler than that is the understanding of Understanding -- which, to Delusion’s shroud, appears around the circle, not beyond it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for knowledge of the truth – it’s forbidden &amp;amp; the circle’s been forbidden. For this, they named the Prophet “forbidden” (haram). He went beyond it, so he said “Ah!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- al Hallaj&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1559080706668330924?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1559080706668330924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1559080706668330924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2012/01/tawasin-of-circle.html' title='Tawasin of the Circle'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-4301362153463702106</id><published>2011-12-14T15:54:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T17:38:47.280-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Layla and Majnun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The souls of infatuates are sick for desire&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; the lover's condition doesn’t alter;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the tears of the lover, upon seeing his love,&lt;br /&gt;rush down his cheek -- one after the other:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;who's kin to love isn’t freed by a glance,&lt;br /&gt;but, every day, he's scolded or seeks more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grieved, distracted, starved, &amp;amp; enfeebled,&lt;br /&gt;he can’t navigate a way, or get a lick of slumber.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="st"&gt;Qays ibn al-Mulawwah&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;انفس العاشقون مرضى&lt;br /&gt;بلاء المحب لا يتفضى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;عبرات المحب كيف تراها&lt;br /&gt;بعضها يستحث في الخد بعضا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ليس يخلو اخو الهوى ان تراه&lt;br /&gt;كل يوم يلام او يترضى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;باكيا ساهىا نحيلا ذليلا&lt;br /&gt;ليس يهدا و ليس يطعم غمضا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;h1 class="firstHeading" id="firstHeading" style="font-weight: normal;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;قيس بن الملوح&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/h1&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-4301362153463702106?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4301362153463702106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4301362153463702106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/12/souls-of-infatuates-are-sick-for-desire.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-283178539197193516</id><published>2011-12-09T20:13:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-09T21:25:26.536-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Layla and Majnun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>She is wine in beauty, like her spit is wine;&lt;br /&gt;her delicacy, too, is tinged by wine:&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;three wines are joined in her, but from one&lt;br /&gt;a drunkard exceeds drunkenness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qays ibn al-Mulawwah &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هي الخمر في حسن و كالخمر ريقها&lt;br /&gt;و رقة ذاك اللون في رقة الخمر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;و قد جمعت منها خمور ثلالثة&lt;br /&gt;و في واحد سكر يزيد السكر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قيس بن الملوح&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-283178539197193516?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/283178539197193516'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/283178539197193516'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/12/she-is-wine-in-beauty-like-her-spit-is.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-6271122784645244089</id><published>2011-12-08T20:19:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T17:48:02.556-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mawqif'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niffari'/><title type='text'>Mawqif of Choice</title><content type='html'>He stopped me at Choice &amp;amp; said: “All of them are sick.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Behold, the doctor enters upon them day &amp;amp; night. I address them with the doctor’s tongue &amp;amp; they know that it's I who speaks to them, but they promise diet for the doctor, not for me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“They were in my hand, so I turned them to my hand &amp;amp; didn’t restore them to the hand in which they were."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“When you see fire, fall in it &amp;amp; don’t flee: if you fall in it, it will be slaked; if you flee from it, it will seek you out &amp;amp; scorch you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I light the fire with my second hand.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You must break habit. But when you break habit, you lose manners.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Your prayer belongs to that which stops you or propels you. Your intention belongs to that which talks to you or you talk to.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There’s no door or way to me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;“When I speak, speak. When I’m silent, silence.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Go to the barren wilderness &amp;amp; sit solitary, until I see you.&amp;nbsp; For when I do, I’ll ascend from earth to heaven with you. I won’t conceal myself from you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If the call of my people doesn’t accompany you through all this, you’ve erred.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If you’re everything I want, weep to yourself &amp;amp; call out to me; I’ll protect you from the companion’s evil.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If you're only something I want, you straddle danger, &amp;amp; even a pupil’s movement will harm you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’ve created all of you. What do you wish?” &lt;br /&gt;I saw the barricade encircle me &amp;amp; saw Him laughing from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: "This is the station of my people &amp;amp; none laughs in it but me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I’ve made as many doors as creations, in the barricade &amp;amp; planted a tree &amp;amp; a cool spring at each door. I made you thirst. If you depart, I won’t restore you to the station or let you drink its water.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Sleep to see me &amp;amp; you will see; wake to see yourself &amp;amp; you won’t see me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“When you find me with the liar, don’t remember him with me. When you find me with the sincere, remember him with me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I must make myself known to you &amp;amp; this making known is a trial; I don’t stop. I’m the source of the trial. I love it in you. I manifested it for you. I loathe it in you. Gnosis of the trial is trial. Ignorance of the trial is trial.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Remember me as a child does; call out to me as a woman would.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You’re no slave of mine if you tell men of yourself or yours. But when you come to me, it’s as if everything that happened didn't.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Niffari &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;*** &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;موقف الاختيار&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أوقفني في الاختيار وقال لي كلهم مرضى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي هو ذا يدخل الطب عليهم بالغداة والعشي وأخاطبهم أنا على ألسنة الطب ويعلمون أنني أنا أكلمهم ويعدون الطب بالحمية ولا يعدوني&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي كانوا في يدي فقلبتهم إلى يدي وليس أردهم إلى اليد التي كانوا فيها&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إذا رأيت النار فقع فيها ولا تهرب فإنك إن وقعت فيها أنطقت وإن هربت منها طلبتك وأحرقتك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي أنا أوقد النار باليد الثانية&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي لابد أن تتحرك عادة فإذا تحركت عادة فما لك أدب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي صلوتك لما يوقفك أو يعجلك وقصدك لما يحادثك أو تحادثه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي ما لي باب ولا طريق&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إذا تكلمت فتكلم وإذا صمت فاصمت&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي اخرج إلى البرية الفارغة واقعد وحدك حتى أراك فإني إذا رأيتك عرجت بك من الأرض إلى السماء ولم أحتجب عنك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إن لم تصحبك في هذا كله دعوة عامي تهت&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إذا كنت كما أريد في كل شيء فابك على نفسك ونادني أعوذ بك من سوء القرين&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إذا كنت لي كما أريد في بعض الشيء فقد ركبت الخطر وإن تحرك بؤبؤ عينك ضرك&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي كلك خلق فماذا تروم، فرأيت السد قد أحاط بي ورأيته في السد يضحك، وقال هذا منزل أهلي ولا أضحك إلا فيه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي قد جعلت لك في السد أبواباً بعدد ما خلقت وغرست على كل باب شجرة وعين ماء باردة وأظمأتك وعزتي لئن خرجت لا رددتك إلى منزل أهلي ولا سقيتك من الماء&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي نم لتراني فإنك تراني، واستيقظ لتراك فإنك لن تراني&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إذا وجدتني عند الكذاب فلا تذكره بي، وإذا وجدتني عند المخلص فذكره بي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي لا بد من أن أتعرف إليك وتعرفي إليك بلاء، أنا لا أزول أنا أصل البلاء أحببت فيك البلاء أظهرت لك البلاء كرهت منك البلاء معرفتك بالبلاء بلاء إنكارك للبلاء بلاء&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي اذكرني كما يذكرني الطفل وادعني كما تدعوني المرأة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي لا تكون لي عبداً وأنت تخبر الناس بم أو بما منك فإذا جئت إلى فكأن الذي جرى كله لم يكن.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;النفري&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-6271122784645244089?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6271122784645244089'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6271122784645244089'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/12/mawqif-of-choice.html' title='Mawqif of Choice'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1642773747329813364</id><published>2011-12-04T23:25:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T17:42:56.361-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niffari'/><title type='text'>Mawqif of Who Are You &amp; Who Am I</title><content type='html'>He stopped me &amp;amp; said: “Who are you &amp;amp; who am I?” I saw the sun, the moon, the stars, &amp;amp; all the lights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: “No light remains in my sea’s current but what you’ve seen.” Everything approached me until there was nothing; &amp;amp; kissed me between the eyes, &amp;amp; greeted me, &amp;amp; stopped in shadow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: “You know me, but I don’t know you.” I saw His all cleaved to my garb &amp;amp; not to me.” He said: “This is my worship.” My garb bent down &amp;amp; I did not; &amp;amp; when it bent, He said “who am I?” Then sun &amp;amp; moon darkened, &amp;amp; stars fell, &amp;amp; lights extinguished, &amp;amp; all was wrapped in dark but Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My eyes didn’t see. My ears didn’t hear. My sense was nullified. Everything uttered, &amp;amp; said Allahu akbar. Everything approached me carrying a sword.  He said: “Flee” &amp;amp; I said “where?” He said “Fall into the dark.” So I fell, &amp;amp; beheld myself. He said: “You’ll behold none other than yourself forever &amp;amp;, never leave the dark. When I oust you from it, I’ll see you for myself &amp;amp; you’ll see me. When you finally see me, you’ll be further from me than all that is far.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Niffari&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="line-height: 150%; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: small;"&gt;موقف من أنت ومن أنا&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أوقفني وقال لي من أنت ومن أنا، فرأيت الشمس والقمر والنجوم وجميع الأنوار.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي ما بقي نور في مجري بحري إلا وقد رأيته، وجاءني كل شيء حتى لم يبق شيء فقبل بين عيني وسلم علي ووقف في الظل.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي تعرفني ولا أعرفك، فرأيته كله يتعلق بثوبي ولا يتعلق بي، وقال هذه عبادتي، ومال ثوبي وما ملت فلما مال ثوبي قال لي من أنا، فكسفت الشمس والقمر وسقطت النجوم وخمدت الأنوار وغشيت الظلمة كل شيء سواه ولم تر عيني ولم تسمع أذني وبطل حسي، ونطق كل شيء فقال الله أكبر، وجاءني كل شيء وفي يده حربة، فقال لي اهرب، فقلت إلى أين، فقال قع في الظلمة، فوقعت في الظلمة فأبصرت نفسي، فقال لي لا تبصر غيرك أبداً ولا تخرج من الظلمة أبداً فإذا أخرجتك منها أريتك نفسي فرأيتني وإذا رأيتني فأنت أبعد الأبعدين.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;النفري&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1642773747329813364?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1642773747329813364'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1642773747329813364'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/12/mawqif-of-who-are-you-who-am-i.html' title='Mawqif of Who Are You &amp; Who Am I'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1506739033669931497</id><published>2011-11-29T22:57:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T16:29:30.035-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Crooked for you for the straightest&lt;br /&gt;way leaves my sun lacked I lay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blind for my eyes won't let their lids&lt;br /&gt;close upon your face growing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dark and everywhere as one&lt;br /&gt;lunatic said to another lunatic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1506739033669931497?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1506739033669931497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1506739033669931497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/11/crooked-for-you-because-straightest-way.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-8775415952944638817</id><published>2011-11-20T18:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T16:05:47.090-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'>Dhikr</title><content type='html'>Put your mouth on this inch&lt;br /&gt;of wool while I vanish, for the word&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;is brief, and leaves&lt;br /&gt;nothing but an itch behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Find your free hand to that part&lt;br /&gt;of throat that beats and repeat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;after me: &lt;i&gt;the heart is a bass&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;and the blood a hook that pulls&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;it out; la la. &lt;/i&gt;We feel homesick&lt;br /&gt;in our skin; repulsed, as if&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there stood some direction towards &lt;br /&gt;which we could go instead.&amp;nbsp; &lt;i&gt;Al qalb&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;i&gt;yaqlab&lt;/i&gt;. Dear Lord, we itch, like well&lt;br /&gt;tailored animals, for an inner &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cilia, and vomit wool&lt;br /&gt;-strokedly and ecstatic.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-8775415952944638817?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8775415952944638817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8775415952944638817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/11/dhikr.html' title='Dhikr'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-6611144160338133936</id><published>2011-11-20T18:21:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T17:21:39.710-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>As al Khidr said to Musa: cough it up.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As a Sufi said to a poet: unlearn your thirst, for it doesn't lead to water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As an Akhmed said to an Ahmed: understand &lt;i&gt;your&lt;/i&gt; tongue is &lt;i&gt;mine&lt;/i&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the inspect said to the suspect: unclothe your rhetoric &amp;amp; let the sorest parts of our language touch.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the Hallaj said the executioner: one demand -- moths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the flame said to Allah: wondrous that something you wrote could find itself on someone's skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Allah said to himself: unify. Thus all was all &amp;amp; wahid was wahid.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-6611144160338133936?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6611144160338133936'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6611144160338133936'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/11/universe.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-4749303156648173841</id><published>2011-11-17T15:51:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-12-02T00:32:43.317-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sufi proof: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you let your Anglish play sequences of syllables, it will land upon something unutterable. There, the names of Godallah are endlessly repeated and profaned without protest; since these words are anglicized, they can't say anything. In the meekness of these stupid words, the Lord is gratified and good. But within the length of this sentence lies the obscene spell that can make Him show himself. Recitation of the script is limited to one who doesn't choke: a lungless, throatless body some say is a Sufi and others say a fish.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-4749303156648173841?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4749303156648173841'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4749303156648173841'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/11/sufi-proof-if-you-let-your-anglish-play.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-2315621409799532281</id><published>2011-11-17T15:18:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-23T16:41:57.182-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Iblis didn't bend an inch for that&lt;br /&gt;which wasn't his One; he said uh uh,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so his Love gave him what he brought&lt;br /&gt;upon himself, standing up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-2315621409799532281?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2315621409799532281'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2315621409799532281'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/11/iblis-didnt-bend-inch-for-that-which.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-8025758371761781605</id><published>2011-11-15T15:40:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2011-11-30T16:33:53.501-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hallaj:&lt;br /&gt;If you disfigure the outer Sufi, the inner one is freed; a shattered mirror's image severed from the body it reflects. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adhem:&lt;br /&gt;What a shattered mirror reflects is violence; the body severed from itself. Ya akhi, the surface shatters depth like a bubble. Pop. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallaj:&lt;br /&gt;When you lost depth, you were left with surface. When you lost surface, you were left with sound. God concentrates himself upon all particles, until they play; the Sufi's ear is filled with singing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adhem:&lt;br /&gt;Do you hear me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallaj:&lt;br /&gt;I hear the fire that you carry like a rhyme. It speaks on your behalf. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adhem:&lt;br /&gt;I've marred my outside &amp;amp; become a mirror. I've burned myself in the name of an out, now what?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallaj:&lt;br /&gt;Concentrate upon fire until the ghosts of flames dance on your skin. Explode, like a compressed atom of God. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adhem:&lt;br /&gt;Ahem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-8025758371761781605?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8025758371761781605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8025758371761781605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/11/hallaj-once-youve-disfigured-outer-arab.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-4054032094574106163</id><published>2011-10-29T17:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T21:59:06.978-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The strangeness this poem exhibits is its music: watch it break to pieces as it shoots towards somewhere like a body spiraling through atmosphere. Or, more grounded: the poem is an air that dangles over earth as if it resided there -- a voice saying "look more like what I speak, " while the earth drifts, stubbornly, by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ya Musa, I want to hit you where your blood hasn't reached; a river pain, a rock pain. Strike you so your blood springs towards things like another heart; you who're stranger to my word. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;*** &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Al Khidr says nothing. It's Musa who believes his lesson music.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;He saw no grounding in his lesson, so he called it unfounded.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;He found his lesson unfounded, so he dubbed it music.&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-4054032094574106163?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4054032094574106163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4054032094574106163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/10/strangeness-this-poem-exhibits-is-its.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1659595119688300675</id><published>2011-10-28T02:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T02:53:49.599-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>There's a piece of us in words; we bury it in them like the lung we hope will wgrow, will wblow again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1659595119688300675?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1659595119688300675'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1659595119688300675'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/10/theres-piece-of-us-in-words-we-bury-it.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-8500349946262415169</id><published>2011-10-22T18:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T18:02:26.043-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hallaj'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>Tawasin of Clarity</title><content type='html'>The truth is particular; its paths are narrow. In it, howling fires burn; beside it, deep deserts span -- the stranger travels them &amp;amp; tells others of the forty stations (maqamat) he meets along the way. Such as:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;manners (adab), awe (rahab), fatigue (nasab), search (talab), wonder (‘ajab), ruin (‘atab), rapture (tarab), ravenousness (sharah), pureness (nazah), clarity (safa’), sincerity (sidq), company (rifq), emancipation (litq), embarking (taswih), rest (tarwih), providing, (tamani), witnessing (shuhud), existence (wujud), enumeration (‘add), labor (kada), restoration (rada), extension (imtidad), self-reliance (‘itadad), isolation (infirad), obedience (inqiyad), attraction (murad), reflection (tadabbur), presence (hudur), exercise (riyada), circumspection (hiyata), study (iftiqad), resistence (istilad), consideration (tadabbur), perplexity (tahayyur), contemplation (tafakkur), patience (tasabbur), interpretion (ta’abbur), refusal (rafd), criticism (naqd), care (ri’aya), guidance (hidaya), beginning (bidaya) In beginning is the station for the people of clarity (safa) &amp;amp; mysticism (sufwaya). For each station there’s a principle -- known and unknown.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He entered the desert, then conquered it, &amp;amp; passed though it. He didn’t belong to the lagging people of the mountains &amp;amp; the plains. “When Musa fulfilled the term” (28:29), he left his people to become a kin to truth. But he was satisfied with tales deprived of vision. There was a cleft (farqan) between him from the best of humankind; he said: “perhaps I’ll bring you some word” (28:29). If the guided one was satisfied with tales, how is the seeker not with the sign? At the Burning Bush, he didn’t hear the bush, or what appeared before his eyes. My form is like that Bush; these are His words, so they are the truth -- the truth is a creation. Reject the created world, so you may be Him or He you, regarding the truth. “I” is the modifier, &amp;amp; the modifier is modified; the modifier is with truth, so how is it modified? The True says to him: “You guide towards the proof, not the proven; I am the proof’s proof.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The True conveyed me to the truth;&lt;br /&gt;there is my secret &amp;amp; this is the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My secret is witness without my;&lt;br /&gt;there is my secret &amp;amp; this is the way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[The True spoke unto my heart; with knowledge of my tongue. He drew me in through distance &amp;amp; made me a Chosen One.]&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- al Hallaj &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;span class="content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: simplified arabic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: simplified arabic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: simplified arabic;"&gt;الحقيقة دقيقة، طرقها مضيقة، فيها نيران شهيقة ودونها مفاوز، عميقة، الغريب سلكها يخبر عن قطع مقامات الأربعين مثل :&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: simplified arabic;"&gt;مقام الأدب، والرهب، والسبب والطلب، والعجب، والعطب، والطرب، والشره، والنزه، والصفاء، والصدق، والرفق، والعتق، والتسويح، والترويح، والتماني، والشهود، والوجود، والعد، والكد، والرد، والامتداد، والاعتداد، والانفراد، والانقياد، والمراد، والشهود، والحضور، والرياضة، والحياطة، والافتقاد، والاصطلاد، والتدبر، والتحير، والتفكر، والتصبر، والتغير، والرفض، والنقض، والرعاية، والهداية، والبداية، فهي مقام أهل الصفاء والصفوية.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: simplified arabic;"&gt;ولكل مقام معلوم مفهوم وغير مفهوم&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: simplified arabic;"&gt;ثم دخل على المفازة وحازها، ثم جازها، فما لأهل المهل، مر الجبل والسهل (فلما&amp;nbsp; قضى موسى الأجل)&amp;nbsp; ترك الأهل حين صار للحقيقة أهلاً ومع ذلك كله رضي بالخبر دون النظر ليكون فرقاً بينه وبين خير البشر،&amp;nbsp; فقال: لعلي آتيكم منها بخبر، فإذا رضي المهتدي بالخبر، فكيف لا يكون المقتدي على الأثر ؟ من الشجرة&amp;nbsp; من جانب الطور ما سمع من شجرة، ما سمع من برزه، ومثلي مثل تلك الشجرة، هذا كلامه، فالحقيقة والحقيقة خليقة، دع الخليقة، لتكون أنت هو، أو هو أنت من حيث الحقيقة، لأني واصف، والموصوف واصف، والواصف بالحقيقة فكيف الموصوف، فقال له الحق (أنت تهدي إلى الدليل لا إلى المدلول، وأنا دليل الدليل). [من مخلع البسيط]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: simplified arabic;"&gt;صيرني&amp;nbsp; الحق بالحقيقة&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: simplified arabic;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;هناك سري وذي الطريقه&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: simplified arabic;"&gt;شاهد سري بلا ضميري&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: simplified arabic;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;هناك سري وذي الطريقه&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="content"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: simplified arabic;"&gt;[قال الحق: وحدثني عن قلبي، ومن علم بلساني، وقربني له بعد بعدي وجعلني من الخواص واصطفاني]&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;الحلاج&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-8500349946262415169?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8500349946262415169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8500349946262415169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/10/tawasin-of-clarity.html' title='Tawasin of Clarity'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-6691974431310371686</id><published>2011-10-16T21:19:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T15:26:34.351-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hallaj:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the moth once told his sect: "I've got nothing in me but" body; fire for the it I'm not satisfied by. An air resides, therein -- pursued by light like a mirror. To the moth, the space between himself &amp;amp; the flame is a sea of distances, carrying him back to nowhere -- &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adhem:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our Lords trade like for like,&lt;br /&gt;over oceans; in New&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;England, for example, &lt;br /&gt;where the scent of fire&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;gives body to the autumn air, one'll&lt;br /&gt;also finds places to disappear&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;insha' Allah. Praise be to Him who started all&lt;br /&gt;creation, &amp;amp; then repeated it; like someone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a podium once said: he "who&lt;br /&gt;holds you over a pit," as if upon &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a thread, "keeps you from"&lt;br /&gt;terror; fire; ire; err.&amp;nbsp; O, O.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-6691974431310371686?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6691974431310371686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6691974431310371686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/10/insect.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1213243085486834143</id><published>2011-10-05T11:00:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T16:35:05.097-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'>Mystical writing</title><content type='html'>Adhem:&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reality parts before the mystic. In the instant of truth, no characteristic asserts itself more strongly than the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;artificiality&lt;/span&gt; of the experience. For if this experience reveals anything worth while to the mystic, it requires a sense of its own making in order to distinguish itself from the mundane. While the former testifies to the particular aspects of its own made-ness (whether it be pieced together by God or generated by the mystic himself), the latter does not contain any sense of sequence; only accident. The former explains why mystic writers spend so much attention on elaborate systems of signs and letters; these are divine sequences stripped down to the particles of signification. To bow down before an order that has no conceivable truth outside that which the Creator holds secret – this is the first task of the mystic. The second is to do the impossible work of translation; he shares the burden of proof with God. Hallaj differentiates the man who can tell of his experience, with one who is consumed by it. He wrote his book on burning parchment to reveal the difference between the duration of fire and the duration of God. He said to his companions: "Look not to me, but to fire; this body is the shadow of what glows &amp;amp; is destroyed there." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He began creation, then repeated it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1213243085486834143?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1213243085486834143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1213243085486834143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/mystical-writing.html' title='Mystical writing'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-8000422220494296334</id><published>2011-10-03T21:29:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-22T16:35:32.354-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'>Naked</title><content type='html'>&lt;i&gt;after Burroughs&lt;/i&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The mouth is parted from the sphincter in name; but to the illiterate, the body is only an extension of either. Mouthly, a man is as good as his word: sphincterly, a tear where're he sits. A man is put together &amp;amp; torn apart each moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sphinx-like, one man bows down before the throne he earned; the other takes his place on it. It is difficult to tell which is led by the mouth, &amp;amp; which by the sphincter. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-8000422220494296334?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8000422220494296334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8000422220494296334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/10/mouth-is-parted-from-sphincter-in-name.html' title='Naked'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-3377844759327904034</id><published>2011-09-22T15:13:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2012-01-18T17:54:49.619-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hallaj'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>Tawasin of the Prophetic Lamp</title><content type='html'>From the Light of the Unseen arose a lamp. It appeared &amp;amp; returned – reigning; its light outgleamed all other lamps -- a moon among moons beaming, a star whose sign was housed within Empyrean. The True named him “Illiterate,” for the aim of his intention &amp;amp; “Forbidden,” for the greatness of his gift &amp;amp; “Situated [&lt;i&gt;makkan&lt;/i&gt;],” for the nearness of his home to Him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He bared his heart &amp;amp; raised his power – he imposed his rule and manifested his moon. His lamp showed light from Magnanimity’s mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He related nothing but that which his eye had seen into the heart of. He paved no path, but that which was plain for truth. He was present (before the True), so he conveyed His Presence.&amp;nbsp; He saw, so spoke. He was sent as guide, so he set limits. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one could discern the depth of his achievement, save the sincere, who makes himself agreeable with him &amp;amp; cleaves to him, so between them there would no longer be a rift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Gnostic knows this, save he who is ignorant of His Attribute: “Those to whom We have given the Book, who recognize their sons, even though a part of them knowingly conceals the truth.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Prophetic lights sprouted from his light, their lights, from his lights, manifested; there is no light more light, more bare, &amp;amp; more aged than age, than the light alighted by the Lord of Generosity. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His intention preceded all intentions, His existence preexisted Nothingness, His name was word before the Pen;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since he preceded nations, there was never anyone on, beyond, below horizon, more graceful, nobler, wiser, more just &amp;amp; kinder, more Godly fearing &amp;amp; more sympathetic than the holder of his rank. He is the Master of Creation &amp;amp; that his name (the most praised, AHMD): his quality is singular, his command is certainty, his essence is excellence, his attribute is glory, his aspiration is unmatchable. .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O wonder! How manifest, how visible, how great, how famous, how brilliant, how powerful, how penetrating another there is naught. He was and is &amp;amp; known before beginnings, before beings. He was and is &amp;amp; there before Before and after After – before substances and qualities. His substance is clear, his speech prophetic. His knowledge is exalted, his tongue is Arabic. His tribe is “neither East nor West”: his lineage is patriarchal, his mission is conciliation. His title is Illiterate. He brought vision through his signs to seeing eyes – through him the mysteries were recognized.&amp;nbsp; .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The True made him speak and the Proof substantiated him. The True sent him forth as the Proven and the Proof. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's him who cleared the rust from the shackled heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s him who carried forth the ancient word, unconditioned &amp;amp; unuttered &amp;amp; unfettered but united indivisibly to Him. It's him who announced the end of The Ends, and the ends of The End. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lifted the cloud and pointed to the Sacred House, perfect &amp;amp; gallant. It’s him who was brought out to break the idols &amp;amp; was sent against the slander and the sin of man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Above him flashed a cloud &amp;amp; below him a bolt – announcing light &amp;amp; rain &amp;amp; growth. The bulk of knowledge is nothing but a volume in His sea. The whole of wisdom is no greater than a handful from His stream. The ages are an hour to His time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The True is with him &amp;amp; with him is the truth. He's the first link &amp;amp; the last among the prophets, inward he bears truth &amp;amp; outward gnosis. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No learned man has ever reached his knowledge &amp;amp; no wise man ever proved his understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The True did not submit His truth to His creation; because he's him &amp;amp; he is he &amp;amp; him is him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing escaped the eM of MHMD (Muhammad) &amp;amp; no one entered the Ha -- his second eM. The first eM is his Dee. His Dee is his duration. His eM is his mark. His Ha is his habitual state, which is his second M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The True manifested his speech &amp;amp; deepened his sign &amp;amp; revealed his proof. He sent the &lt;i&gt;furqan&lt;/i&gt; down to him &amp;amp; attuned his tongue, making that which dwells deep in him glow, hindering all others from imitation. He caused clarity &amp;amp; magnified his glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you shun his law, what direction will you follow, O afflicted? No guide is here: the wisdom of wise men to his wisdom is a sliding heap of sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- al Hallaj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-3377844759327904034?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3377844759327904034'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3377844759327904034'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/09/tawasin-of-prophetic-lamp.html' title='Tawasin of the Prophetic Lamp'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-891632916106339448</id><published>2011-09-22T15:03:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-22T15:15:12.084-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hallaj'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>Tawasin of Understanding</title><content type='html'>The understanding of creation doesn’t depend on truth; the truth doesn’t depend on creation. Thoughts are dependencies; the dependencies of creation doesn’t relate to truths. Meeting with the knowledge of truth is difficult; so what’s to be done with the truth of truth? The True is behind the truth, which is below the True.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The moth flutters, till daybreak, ‘round the flame, &amp;amp; then returns to friends; he tells them, tenderly, of his state -- reveling in the details with his hunger for more.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The light of the flame is the knowledge of truth; its heat is the truth of the truth; the meeting with it is the True of truth. The moth wasn’t satisfied with light &amp;amp; heat; he meets the flame with his whole body. His friends, meanwhile, knowing him unsatisfied with tales, expect him to return with a vision. But at that time, he’s utterly consumed --dwindled down &amp;amp; torn apart; devoid of form or body -- name or mark. In what form can he return to them, after what he has become?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In his meeting with vision, he dispensed with tales: whoever meets his eye’s object dispenses with sight. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These meanings do not vindicate the languid, or the transient, or the sinful, or he who seeks security. “As if I’m” is “as if I’m” &amp;amp; it’s as if I’m him or he is me; &amp;amp; you would not long for me, if you were me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O you uncertain, don’t relate “I’m” with Me; now, or later, or then. Don’t think that I’m Me or that I am or, that I was; though I’m Gnostic &amp;amp; knowing is my state – it’s blemished. Though I’m his, I’m not him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you have understood thus, then understand: these meanings were not true to anyone but AHMD, because “Muhammad was a father to no one” save the prophets. He disappeared from men and jinn &amp;amp; closed his eyes to Where until there was no trace of ornament. There was a distance of two bows when he reached the desert of truth’s knowledge; he related from his heart. When he arrived at the truth of the True, his desire fled, so he gave himself to Generousness. After meeting with The True, he returned &amp;amp; said “the outer heart believes, while the hidden heart prostrates.” When he reached the limit’s Limit he said: “I can never praise you as you should be praised.” When he reached the truth of the truth he said: “You are the only that can praise yourself.” He renounced his desire and followed his vocation; “the heart did not fib what it saw” by the Lotus Tree. He did not turn right towards the truth &amp;amp; did not turn left towards the truth of the truth. “His eye strayed not, nor overstepped.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- al Hallaj &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-891632916106339448?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/891632916106339448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/891632916106339448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/09/tawasin-of-understanding.html' title='Tawasin of Understanding'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-735391024650038860</id><published>2011-09-18T15:25:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T12:56:57.783-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mawqif'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niffari'/><title type='text'>Mawqif of Light</title><content type='html'>He stopped me in the light &amp;amp; said:“I don’t constrict it or expand it; I don’t fold it or unravel it; I don’t hide it or reveal it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: “O light: be constricted &amp;amp; expanded, be enfolded &amp;amp; unraveled, be hidden &amp;amp; revealed,” so it did. I saw the realities of “I don’t constrict” &amp;amp; “O light: be constricted.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: “I give no more to you than this expression.” I turned away &amp;amp; saw to seek his affirmation was a disobedience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: “Obey me. None obey me. When you obey me, you no longer do.” I saw his true oneness &amp;amp; his true ordinance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: “Cast your gaze from all of this &amp;amp; upon yourself. When you gaze upon yourself, I don’t affirm it; I pardon it &amp;amp; am indifferent.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Niffari &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;موقف نور&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;أوقفني في نور وقال لي لا أقبضه ولا أبسطه ولا أطويه ولا أنشره ولا أخفيه ولا أظهره، وقال يا نور انقبض وانبسط وانطو وانتشر وأخف وأظهر، فانقبض وأنبسط وانطوى وانتشر وخفى وظهر و رأيت حقيقة لا أقبض وحقيقة يا نور انقبض&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي ليس اعطيك أكثر من هذه العبارة، فانصرف فرأيت طلب رضاه معصيته فقال لي أطعني فإذا أطعتني فما أطعتني ولا أطاعني أحد، فرأيت الوحدانية الحقيقيةوالقدرة الحقيقية، فقال غض عن هذا كله وانظر إليك وإذا نظرت إليك لم أرض وأنا أغفر ولا أبالي.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;النفري &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-735391024650038860?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/735391024650038860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/735391024650038860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/09/mawqif-of-light.html' title='Mawqif of Light'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1756320709493198057</id><published>2011-09-17T15:17:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T15:43:25.893-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'>Diwan</title><content type='html'>The purpose of this song is to be placed in a file. It has to be -- to be sound. The contents of this song have been made unavailable. Words find their way into its cipher, &amp;amp; leave as names -- no men. To be sound as names, they may be questioned &amp;amp; remembered again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I speak not of any -glish, but a Day. A day in which the names among you shall gather, like an itch upon your throats. All clots &amp;amp; glots a-sing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I speak of an Eng. Pardon, an End; time's rhyme with the Begin--&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I speak of Angels, men, &amp;amp; the unbecoming way they, who speak solely in names, address us, the purposed nothing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1756320709493198057?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1756320709493198057'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1756320709493198057'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/09/diwan.html' title='Diwan'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1530782790213698216</id><published>2011-09-11T14:52:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T13:00:20.571-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mawqif'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niffari'/><title type='text'>Mawqif of My Moment’s Come</title><content type='html'>He stopped me &amp;amp; said: “if you don’t see me, you’re not with me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If you see other than me, you don’t see me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My signal blots the substance of a thing’s substance out; it confirms the thing to be from Him, &amp;amp; not in itself.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“In you lies that which isn’t changed and doesn’t change.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Silence the silent in you, for me; speak the spoken, necessarily.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The result of my gaze is found in all things. You transform it, if you address it with your tongue.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Set my memory behind your back, or you’ll go back to other than me; there lies no barrier between you &amp;amp; me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My moment’s come; the time for me to bare my face &amp;amp; show my splendor; to join my light with courtyards &amp;amp; what remains behind them; to bend the eyes and hearts towards me. You'll see my rivals love me, &amp;amp; my closest rule; I'll raise thrones for them. I'll release fire, so it won't return; I'll fix my ruined houses, so they’re adorned with true adornment. You'll see my lot surpass all others. I'll gather humankind in joy, so they’re no longer split or shamed. Bring out my Treasure &amp;amp; realize what I’ve made you of my word, my providence, &amp;amp; my height’s nearness. I shall emerge, &amp;amp; the stars will gather 'round me; I’ll bring sun &amp;amp; moon together; I’ll enter every house &amp;amp; when they wish me peace, I’ll wish peace unto them. All of this is from my will, &amp;amp; on my watch, the hour strikes. I am Great &amp;amp; Merciful.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Niffari &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;موقف قد جاء وقتي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أوقفني وقال إن لم ترني لم تكن بي.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي أن رأيت غيري لم ترني.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي أشارتي في الشيء تمحو معنى المعنى فيه وتثبته منه لا به.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي فيك ما لا ينصرف ولا يصرف.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي أصمت لي الصامت منك ينطق الناطق ضرورة.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي أثر نظري في كل شيء فأن خاطبته على لسانك قلبته.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي أجعل ذكري وراء ظهرك وإلا رجعت إلى سواي لا حائل بينك وبينه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي قد جاء وقتي وأن لي أن أكشف عن وجهي وأظهر سبحاتي ويتصل نوري بالأفنية وما وراءها وتطلع على العيون والقلوب، وترى عدوي يحبني وترى أوليائي يحكمون، فأرفع لهم العروش ويرسلون النار قلا ترجع، وأعمر بيوت الخراب وتتزين بالزينة الحق، وترى فسطي كيف ينفى ما سواه، وأجمع الناس على اليسر فلا يفترقون ولا يذلون، فأستخرج كنزي وتحقق ما أحققتك به من خبري وعدتي وقرب طلوعي، فأني سوف أطلع وتجتمع حولي النجوم، وأجمع بين الشمس والقمر، وأدخل في كل بيت ويسلمون علي وأسلم عليهم، بذلك بأن لي المشيئة وبأذني تقوم الساعة، وأنا العزيز الرحيم.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1530782790213698216?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1530782790213698216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1530782790213698216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/09/mawqif-of-my-moments-come.html' title='Mawqif of My Moment’s Come'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-8042520996507949499</id><published>2011-09-05T01:35:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T12:26:04.577-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The story shouldn't be recounted. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Qur’an, he’s not given a name – this teacher who allegedly schooled Musa in Patience is simply He Who Dwells Where the Fish Disappears and Waters Meet; a nowhere of intersections &amp;amp; circumstances. Elsewhere, he’s called Al-Khidr, the Green, as if his appearance flashed no longer than the time requisite to observe a single attribute, or as if this greenness swallowed the whole of his appearance. Does such color gain its total appearance from Divine Purity; once touched down upon the Earth, does it just as easily swallow the background with the foreground? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This Green exhibits all the attributes of a stern father or an unsatisfiable teacher – one who asks for unwavering obedience from his student, even while encouraging recklessness. When Musa meets him, Al Khidr already expects impatience from his pupil. He warns him against behaving in the way that’s already been attributed to him. Thus Musa dwells at another intersection – between what he knows and what he’s capable of. The two begin a shadowplay of education, with Musa lagging irrecoverably behind at the start of each practice (each lesson more unexpected than the next). Our Musa’s forced between possession and imitation, and the Khidr between teacher of an unteachable knowledge &amp;amp; the time by which that knowledge comes to reveal itself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where the waters meet, he murders me, &lt;br /&gt;this is the first lesson, recorded &amp;amp; to be read again, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve given you lungs unable&lt;br /&gt;to sing, now give us grammar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve given you violence that you may part&lt;br /&gt;water, now give us sequence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left my book behind. Now I am an idiot.  &lt;br /&gt;My pen exploded with my name. Now I am a violent man.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-8042520996507949499?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8042520996507949499'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8042520996507949499'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/09/in-quran-hes-not-given-name-this.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-2412444647339824560</id><published>2011-09-03T17:07:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-19T13:02:49.798-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Paranoia wants an end it cannot find in any sensible form. Pain for it must be constant, all-encompassing, or else it is the shadow of pain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as fire consumes a person before it puts him to sleep, now that I know I'm not human, I can finally rest.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-2412444647339824560?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2412444647339824560'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2412444647339824560'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/09/paranoia-wants-end-it-cannot-find-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7799056748429356005</id><published>2011-09-03T15:02:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-10T20:49:31.520-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mawqif'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niffari'/><title type='text'>Mawqif of Do Not Blink</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;He stopped me &amp;amp; said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I manifested everything, then warded off from it, &amp;amp; warded off, by it, from Me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“When you behold Me establishing everything, I’ve allowed you to meet Me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Everything contains a mark, by which it’s part &amp;amp; which it's parted by."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If you dwell with the establisher, the established won’t stand equal to you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“When you see an end to Me, the traverse is voided."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“There's no end to Me, until you see Me behind everything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My establishment effaces naught; through it or Me. Truly, I’m the arbiter of the knowledge I founded."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Behold Me &amp;amp; do not blink; that’s the first part of your war for Me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Raise your concern on fear; I’ll establish it through attention. Don’t raise it on hope; I’ll raze it when the work’s done."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“When I drive you from names, I announce you My authority.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Niffari&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;موقف لا تطرف&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أوقفني وقال لي أظهرت كل شيء وأدرأت عنه وأدرأت به عني.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إذا نظرت إلي أثبت كل شيء فقد آذنتك بمواصلتي.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي كل له علامة ينقسم بها وتنقسم به.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي كن بالمثبت لا يقوم لك الثبت.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إذا كان إلي المنتهى سقط المعترض.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي لا يكون إلي المنتهى حتى تراني من وراء كل شيء.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إثباتي لا يمتحي به ولا بي، إني أنا الحكيم المتقن على علم ما وضعت.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي انظر إلي ولا تطرف يكن ذلك أول جهادك في.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي ابن أمرك على الخوف أثبته بالهم ولا تبن أمرك على الرجاء أهدمه إذا تكامل العمل.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;النفري&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7799056748429356005?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7799056748429356005'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7799056748429356005'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/09/mawqif-of-do-not-blink.html' title='Mawqif of Do Not Blink'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7027986913711551421</id><published>2011-08-31T02:46:00.024-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T02:33:59.175-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'>Sawf</title><content type='html'>God wool, spun inward, gathers &lt;br /&gt;what it broke off from; unwearable &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;monochrome where this green &lt;br /&gt;heart flags as if sailed too far out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7027986913711551421?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7027986913711551421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7027986913711551421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/unwearable-monochrome-in-which-this.html' title='Sawf'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-3824959461271143001</id><published>2011-08-29T14:26:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T15:46:00.840-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Adhem: How does one have patience with a violent man? &lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;Hallaj: You die, so you can be patient again.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-3824959461271143001?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3824959461271143001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3824959461271143001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/in-moment-of-violent-hes-violent-in.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-4484985747957900588</id><published>2011-08-26T01:24:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:43:19.278-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Islamist parents see their progeny smitten&lt;br /&gt;by CIA eyes that say that it was written&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-4484985747957900588?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4484985747957900588'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4484985747957900588'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/islamist-parents-see-their-progeny.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-966051408615472973</id><published>2011-08-24T16:38:00.018-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T13:44:26.572-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Particles, ya Musa, are indivisible. We breathe them as we sit here speaking of the True; we've a part in them &amp;amp; know not that we do. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They coat our tongues like a womb-left film; left by whom. Ya Musa, our language searches for a whom; O there. We sing the particles in the name of a smother; in the name of a moth air; in the name of ammo -- fire. Whatsoever we sing for aims there.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O, you of water, what can you know of mater; how the undivided open their mouths to say "I'm there." &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-966051408615472973?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/966051408615472973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/966051408615472973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/particles-musa-are-strange-specimens.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-3408114925514901559</id><published>2011-08-24T15:36:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T15:47:20.900-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'>Dhikr</title><content type='html'>What’s said’s said Sayedi&lt;br /&gt;what’s aid to my Lord that&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;said What Is to unsaid what &lt;br /&gt;till it said What Say You&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;what’s A to U but a vowel of&lt;br /&gt;a love between a lif &amp;amp; a loof&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-3408114925514901559?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3408114925514901559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3408114925514901559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/whats-saids-said-sayedi-whats-aid-to-my.html' title='Dhikr'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-3910879084731889155</id><published>2011-08-20T21:49:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T15:26:28.481-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niffari'/><title type='text'>Mawqif of the Unutterable</title><content type='html'>He stopped me at the unutterable &amp;amp; said: “Through the unutterable, you join in the utterable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If you didn’t witness the unutterable, you’d be left scattered by the utterable."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The utterable turns you to utterableness; the utterableness is utterance; the utterance is letter; the letter is inflection. The unutterable makes you witness to My Self-Avowal in everything &amp;amp; its sites of gnosis."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Expression is an inclination; when you witness that which doesn’t change, you don’t slant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Utterance turns to ecstasy; ecstasy, through utterance, turns to ecstasy for the uttered."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Ecstasy for the uttered is disbelief, by definition."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t hearken to me in the letter &amp;amp; don’t get word of me from it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The letter can’t give word of itself, how can it speak of Me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I'm the maker of the letter &amp;amp; the word of it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I'm word of Myself, to whomever I give it.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“My word shows sign through witnessing; it isn’t found in any other sign &amp;amp; doesn’t show itself through any other form."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You’ll stay writing as long as you figure &amp;amp; stop when you figure no more."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“When you don’t figure or write, I’ll assign you a portion of illiteracy; for the illiterate prophet doesn’t write or figure."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t write or intend, don’t figure or examine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Intention writes true &amp;amp; false, examination figures taking &amp;amp; leaving."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He is not of me or my line -- whoso writes the true &amp;amp; false, or figures taking &amp;amp; leaving."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Every scribe recites his script, and every reciter figures his recitation.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Niffari&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;موقف ما لا ينقال&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أوقفني في ما لا ينقال وقال لي به تجتمع فيما ينقال.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إن لم تشهد ما لا ينقال تشتت بما ينقال.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي ما ينقال يصرفك إلى القولية والقولية قول والقول حرف والحرف تصريف، وما لا ينقال يشهدك في كل شيء تعرفي إليه ويشهدك من كل شيء مواضع معرفته.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي العبارة ميل فإذا شهدت ما لا يتغير لم تمل.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي القول يصرف إلى الوجد والتواجد بالقول يصرف إلى المواجيد بالمقولات.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي المواجيد بالمقولات كفر على حكم التعريف.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي لا تسمع في من الحرف ولا تأخذ خبري عن الحرف.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي الحرف يعجز أن يخبر عن نفسه فكيف يخبر عني.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي أنا جاعل الحرف والمخبر عنه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي أنا المخبر عني لمن أشاء أن أخبره.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي لإخباري علامة بإشهاد لا توجد بسواه ولا يبدو إخباري إلا فيه.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي لا تزال تكتب ما دمت تحسب فإذا لم تحسب لم تكتب.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إذا لم تحسب ولم تكتب ضربت لك بسهم في الأمية لأن النبي الأمي لا يكتب ولا يحسب.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي لا تكتب ولا تهم، ولا تحسب ولا تطالع.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي الهم يكتب الحق والباطل، والمطالعة تحسب الآخذ والترك.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي ليس مني ولا من نسبتي من كتب الحق والباطل وحسب الآخذ والترك.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي كل كاتب يقرأ كتابته وكل قارئ يحسب قراءته.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;النفري&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-3910879084731889155?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3910879084731889155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3910879084731889155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/mawqif-of-unutterable.html' title='Mawqif of the Unutterable'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-6502590494148966535</id><published>2011-08-19T14:39:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T02:38:45.506-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Layla and Majnun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Upon the land, I stare, as if I stood&lt;br /&gt;behind a glass; looking from Love's Waters,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my eyes occasionally drown from weeping, so I&lt;br /&gt;go blind; sometimes they bare enough for me to see.&amp;nbsp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though no tears pour out from this eye,&lt;br /&gt;it languishes and leaks just the same. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qays ibn al-Mulawwah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;نظرت كأني من وراء زجاجة&lt;br /&gt;إلى الدار من ماء الصبابة أنظر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فعيناي طوراً تغرقان من البكا&lt;br /&gt;فأمشي و طوراً تحسران فأبصر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;و ليس الذي يجري من العين ماؤها&lt;br /&gt;و لكنما نفسي تذوب فتقطر&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قيس بن المللوح&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-6502590494148966535?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6502590494148966535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6502590494148966535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/i-stared-as-if-i-stood-behind-glass-at.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-2042931215568667923</id><published>2011-08-18T00:37:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:44:38.878-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A wave moved through his vertebrae &lt;br /&gt;leaving an ape behind. The animal &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;blues got him down 'nough &lt;br /&gt;to ponder on the Lord’s great work &amp; wonder &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What do fish worship? Being less &lt;br /&gt;upright than him, do they love flotsam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like heavenly equivalent? Or are their thoughts &lt;br /&gt;bent towards some unbreathable &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;bottom? Adhem's in it deep; can feel&lt;br /&gt;the pressure of it, too; a bit of bone stuck, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;like a fin, out his prostrating back, till &lt;br /&gt;CRACK one day he’ll finally be free. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-2042931215568667923?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2042931215568667923'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2042931215568667923'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/wave-moved-through-his-vertebrae.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-2263329031932610313</id><published>2011-08-16T16:52:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T13:42:42.151-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The only fragments are those that do to their creator what he intended for them. The visual equivalent to this is the self-photograph; with the reluctant look of its subject turned creature, before the lens &amp;amp; the laughter of the image, reveling in its resilience over its assembler.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet in the moment of the shot, who’s to say the scene isn’t invisibly touched by the hand of its master? A river wrinkled, a staff blurred mid-motion, a light refracted in the lens's eye; all seem signals of a hand that says, “If I’m no god, then let me hold this image up to one.” For this, too, will be remembered on the Day of Judgment. &lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-2263329031932610313?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2263329031932610313'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2263329031932610313'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/only-fragments-are-those-that-do-to.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-6176289169263095641</id><published>2011-08-14T21:32:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-28T02:35:24.983-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>"No" said the Sufi to his Love, because&lt;br /&gt;he knew his way was long &amp;amp; lone;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could once put more words to this&lt;br /&gt;song, now all I've got's a moan, -oan:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;noone follows Adhem &amp;amp; he follows none. &lt;br /&gt;Strange. It's as if somewhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the road went wrong, leaving his sole&lt;br /&gt;Nobody farther than he could say.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God to Niffari: "we're strays for one another."&lt;br /&gt;Let the starving animal among us nay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-6176289169263095641?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6176289169263095641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6176289169263095641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/no-said-sufi-to-his-beloved-because-he.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7217365154091943680</id><published>2011-08-14T15:42:00.016-04:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T18:34:30.316-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mawqif'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niffari'/><title type='text'>Mawqif of That Which Appears</title><content type='html'>He stopped me at That Which Appears, but I didn’t see Him appear; he could appear concealed &amp;amp; not concealed. Substanceless, He could appear &amp;amp; there would be substance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: “Stop at the inferno.” I saw that that with which He punishes is paradise &amp;amp; that with which He eases paradise is punishing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: “One undivided &amp;amp; impenetrable, everlasting &amp;amp; merciful, is He."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: “Stop at the earth &amp;amp; sky.” I saw that which descends upon the earth to be a scheme &amp;amp; that which ascends it was a snare;  that that which ascends includes that which descends -- the two summon themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: “That which descends is your horse &amp;amp; that which ascends is your journey, so consider what you ride &amp;amp; where you go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You descend through distance &amp;amp; ascend through distance; a distance of a length of a length that doesn’t speak."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“How can you be with Me, if you’re caught between descending &amp;amp; ascending?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I haven’t brought out any matter from the earth that I assemble Myself though, or any matter from the sky. Only this: I’ve made all matter appear &amp;amp; divided Myself from it. I veiled Myself then I began, assembling Myself. These were the ways; the ways were a trajectory.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said:  “Stop at paradise.” I saw His manifested objects all assembled there; looking just as they did on earth, behind the veil of matter. I saw that He made naught appear behind this matter, for 'Behind' contained a limit. I saw that He made naught appear so He could stay concealed, &amp;amp; make appear, so substanceless He would be what there was substance for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: “If you dwell on the throne, you’ll remain in flight. If you dwell in recollection, you’ll remain veiled.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If any other than Me be your stray, vanquish him."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If I’m your stray, you err from Me &amp;amp; are bewildered by anyone beside Me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Consider -- why haven’t I ever made you my stray, or turned to you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You’re my stray &amp;amp; I’m yours; there's no one absent among us."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“All that shows itself &amp;amp; other than it, through itself, has wound you with itself &amp;amp; other; &amp;amp; it shakes you free from itself &amp;amp; other."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“All that shows you that which is beside itself, &amp;amp; not itself , has schemed against you. All that shows you itself, &amp;amp; not what is beside itself -- you shall see all its luminousness alights."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Niffari&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;موقف ما يبدو&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;أوقفني فيما يبدو فيخفي ولا يخفى فيبدو ولا معنى فيكون معنى، وقال لي قف  في النار، فرأيته يعذب بها ورأيتها جنة ورأيت ما ينعم به في الجنة هو ما  يعذب به في النار.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي أحد لا يفترق صمد لا ينقسم رحمن هو هو.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي قف في الأرض والسماء، فرأيت ما ينزل ما ينزل إلى الأرض مكراً  وما يصعد منها شركاً ورأيت الذي يصعد هو عما ينزل ورأيت ما ينزل يدعو إلى  نفسه ورأيت ما يصعد يدعو إلى نفسه.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي ينزل مطيتك وما يصعد مسيرك فأنظر ما تركب وأين تقصد.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي تنزل مسافة تصعد مسافة مسافة بعد بعد لا يحادث.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي كيف تكون عندي وأنت بين النزول والصعود.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي ما أخرجت من الأرض عينا جمعت بها علي ولا أنزلت من السماء عيناً  جمعت بها علي إنما أبديت كل عين فقسمت بها عني وحجبت عني وحجبت ثم بدأت  فجمعت بي وكانت هي الطرق وكانت الطرق جهة.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي قف في الجنة؛ فرأيته يجمع ما أظهر فيها من العيون كما جمع في  الأرض ببدوه من وراء العيون فرأيته يبدو لا من وراء العيون فيكون الوراء  ظرفاً ورأيته لا يبدو فيخفي ولا يخفى فيبدو ولا معنى فيكون معنى.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إن أقمت في العرش فما بعده فابق فاراً، وإن أقمت في الذكر فما بعده فابق محجوباً.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إن كان غيري ضالتك فأظفر بالحرب.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إن كانت ضالتك تهت إلا عني وحرت إلا معي.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي انظر إلي لما جعلتك ضالتي ألم أقبل عليك.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي أنت ضالتي وأنا ضالتك وما منا من غاب.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي كلما أراك نفسه وأراك غيره به فقد ربطك به وبغيره ونفضك عنه وعن غيره.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي ما أراك سواه ولم يرك نفسه فقد مكربك، وما أراكه ولم يرك سواه رأيت كل شيء في نور نورتيه.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;النفري&lt;br /&gt;من كتاب المواقف&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7217365154091943680?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7217365154091943680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7217365154091943680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/mawqif-of-that-which-appears.html' title='Mawqif of That Which Appears'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-4044724028157295097</id><published>2011-08-11T16:20:00.011-04:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T22:17:57.748-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mawqif'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niffari'/><title type='text'>Mawqif of The Sea</title><content type='html'>He stopped me at the Sea, where ships sunk &amp;amp; planks floated, then sunk. He said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“He who sails isn’t saved."&lt;br /&gt;“He risk himself-- whoso throws his body in &amp;amp; doesn’t sail."&lt;br /&gt;“He ruins, whoso sails &amp;amp; doesn’t risk himself."&lt;br /&gt;“In risk there is a shred of rescue.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then came the wave, raising up what lay beneath &amp;amp; swelling on the shore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: "The surface of the sea is an unreachable glow, its depth an impossible darkness; between the two are untrustworthy fishes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Don’t sail the sea; I veil you by the instrument. Don’t throw yourself in it; I veil you by the act."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“The sea contains edges; which one will harbor you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“When you give yourself to the sea, &amp;amp; drown, you’re a creature of it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I mislead you, if I lead you to any but Me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“If you ruin in any other than me, you belong in your ruins."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“This world is for him I’ve turned from it &amp;amp; whom I’ve turned it from; the next one is for him I’ve turned it to &amp;amp; whom I’ve turned to Me.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Niffari&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;/div&gt;موقف البحر&lt;br /&gt;أوقفني في البحر فرأيت المراكب تغرق والألواح تسلم، ثم غرقت الألواح، وقال لي لا يسلم من ركب.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي خاطر من ألقى نفسه ولم يركب.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي هلك من ركب وما خاطر.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي في المخاطرة جزء من النجاة، وجاء الموج ورفع ما تحته وساح على الساحل.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي ظاهر البحر ضوء لا يبلغ، وقعرة ظلمه لا تمكن، وبينهما حيتان لا تستأمن.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي لا تركب البحر فأحجبك بالآلة، ولا تلق نفسك فيه فأحجبك به.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي في البحر حدود أيها يقلك.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إذا وهبت نفسك للبحر فغرقت فيه كنت كدابة من دوابه.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي غششتك إن دللتك على سواي.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي إن هلكت في سواي كنت لما هلكت فيه.&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي الدنيا لمن صرفته عنها وصرفتها عنه، والآخرة لمن أقبلت بها إليه وأقبلت به علي.&lt;br /&gt;النفري&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-4044724028157295097?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4044724028157295097'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4044724028157295097'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/mawqif-of-sea.html' title='Mawqif of The Sea'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1161631130434948605</id><published>2011-08-10T14:24:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T15:30:04.661-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mawqif'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niffari'/><title type='text'>Mawqif of His Reality</title><content type='html'>He stopped me at His reality &amp;amp; said to me:&lt;br /&gt;"If I made my reality a sea, you’d cleave to the ship, and if, at my word, you left the ship, you’d cleave to the journey; if you surpassed the journey, you’d cleave to the shores; if you spurned the shores, you’d cleave to the designations: reality &amp;amp; sea. These designations call forth, but the ear gets lost in their terms. So, you couldn’t arrive at my reality or journey on the sea."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw, then, the shimmering as shade &amp;amp; the water as solid rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: "To him who doesn’t see this, my reality’s no duty; to him who does, my reality is. He whose bound to my reality -- if he speaks to any other than me – is an infidel. All limitation is a veil I don’t appear behind; there’s nothing in the vision of my reality, but reality."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw all that’s immutable. He granted me the wisdom of mutability, and I saw all created things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: "What’s created doesn’t last, no exceptions." He divided the vision into parts: optic and mental, &amp;amp; said "Behold, the whole of creation, moving and speaking."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said: "how did you see things before My reality?" I said "moving and speaking." He said: "Beware the difference, so as to not stray." Then he turned me from his reality, and I saw nothing. He said: "You saw everything and it all obeyed you. Your vision of everything is a trial, just as everything’s obedience to you." He turned me back from all of that &amp; said:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All of that I don’t regard &amp;amp; isn’t good to me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Niffari&lt;br /&gt;from the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Book of Mawaqifs&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;موقف حقه&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أوقفني في حقه وقال لي لو جعلته بحراً تعلقت بالمركب فإن ذهبت عنه بإذهابي فبالسير فإن علوت عن السير فبالساحلين فإن طرحت الساحلين فبالتسمية حق وبحر وكل تسميتن تدعوان والسمع يتيه في لغتين فلا على حقي حصلت ولا على البحر سرت، فرأيت الشعاشع ظلمات والمياه حجراً صلداً.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي من لم ير هذا فما وجب عليه حقي ومن رآه فقد وجب عليه حقي ومن عليه فكلم سواي كفر والحد كله حجاب لا أظهر من ورائه وليس في رؤية حقي إلا رؤيته، فرأيت ما لا يتغير فأعطاني حكماً يتغير فرأيت كل شيء خلق.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي لا تستثن، فما هو بقي خلق وانقسمت الرؤية عينية وعلمية فإذا هو كله لا يتحرك ولا يتكلم.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي كيف رأيته من قبل رؤية حقي، فقلت يتحرك ويتكلم، فقال لي اعرف الفرق لئلا تتيه. وعرج بي عن حقه فلم أر شيئاً، فقال لي رأيت كل شيء وأطاعك كل شيء ورؤيتك كل شيء بلاء وطاعة كل شيء لك بلاء. وعرج بي عن ذلك كله.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وقال لي كله لا أنظر إليه ولا يصلح لي.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="st"&gt;&lt;span dir="rtl"&gt;محمد بن عبد الجبار بن حسن &lt;em&gt;النفري&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من كتاب المواقف&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1161631130434948605?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1161631130434948605'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1161631130434948605'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/mawqif-of-his-reality.html' title='Mawqif of His Reality'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5099884366340541216</id><published>2011-08-09T15:36:00.014-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T02:40:42.488-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'>Sintax</title><content type='html'>Where Babel's sentence once&lt;br /&gt;asphyxiated, we place a comma&lt;br /&gt;cautioning the followers who think&lt;br /&gt;their lungs can outblow its.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5099884366340541216?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5099884366340541216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5099884366340541216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/babel-envoy-asphyxiates-over-his.html' title='Sintax'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-298623121897370960</id><published>2011-08-07T15:30:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:44:38.880-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A Sufi writes with hands cut off with &lt;br /&gt;memory of a head gone like his says&lt;br /&gt;This because it's all it can&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-298623121897370960?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/298623121897370960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/298623121897370960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/sufi-writes-with-his-hands-constricted.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5177635146598378878</id><published>2011-08-07T14:44:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T13:45:46.382-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Reality is something accidental &amp;amp; overdone. Like a long take of Adhem, ahem wheezing, after his speech, or Musa’s hunger, over by the river; it is an itch, exposed by godly Eye, that makes its objects say No more. What the blind man once committed on guitar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5177635146598378878?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5177635146598378878'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5177635146598378878'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/reality-is-something-accidental.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-2085662169334598866</id><published>2011-08-06T13:31:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T12:20:53.479-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Made a deal with the Devil&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; the Devil come&lt;br /&gt;said "Pay that fish no mind&lt;br /&gt;let the river run"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Paid my mind to the Devil&lt;br /&gt;let the trouble come&lt;br /&gt;so a part of me is fishy&lt;br /&gt;for the rest that run&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-2085662169334598866?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2085662169334598866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2085662169334598866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/08/made-deal-with-devil-devil-come-said.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5338380148945828990</id><published>2011-07-29T18:56:00.010-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-03T17:18:46.642-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The poet should break ribs between breaths.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5338380148945828990?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5338380148945828990'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5338380148945828990'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/poet-should-fracture-rib-between-commas.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5896001021038492659</id><published>2011-07-29T18:44:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-29T18:51:53.168-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The last look of these objects;&lt;br /&gt;her unworn shoes &amp;amp; grocery lists,&lt;br /&gt;is an executed man's insomnia.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5896001021038492659?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5896001021038492659'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5896001021038492659'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/last-look-of-these-objects-her-unworn.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-3681062200743286976</id><published>2011-07-28T12:49:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2011-10-05T13:46:35.727-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Musa &amp;amp; Co. moseyed, musing on a river path; if this water ever runs, which bubble do I dub my own? Picky Musa touched this water with his staff to see if his luck would strike twice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somewhere swimming in his part brain, did an image surface from when he fled; if the river, now, could speak, would it pipe up with the memory of his mother's hands in the water? Whose hand were these, that played along him, now? The bronze or golden? Which mother set this boy a-weeping? &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I was born by the river, in a little tent,/ &amp;amp; just like the river, I’ve been running ever since.&lt;/span&gt; Musa-Music places his hand on that stream, hoping the water remembers their repertoire. There is softness in this rush; as if the river murmured her. There is home in the river, for those who know the lullaby of water. A home running too far down the nerves to be anything less than pain. A pain that says &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It’s been a looooooong&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Musa struck home upon bedrock &amp;amp; there was water.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-3681062200743286976?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3681062200743286976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3681062200743286976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/musa-co.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1694431249881333339</id><published>2011-07-26T13:52:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:44:38.882-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'>Adhem's song</title><content type='html'>My Gawd, give me distinction&lt;br /&gt;like the devil once sung –&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;l-l-let what’s hollow float&lt;br /&gt;heavenwards; what’s drowned,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;go down. My throat, make it choke&lt;br /&gt;with something sing’lar in you, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or drop thy hook. Give this&lt;br /&gt;fish wings if its flopped, &amp; if&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one day it falls, a flood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1694431249881333339?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1694431249881333339'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1694431249881333339'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/adhems-song.html' title='Adhem&apos;s song'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-8565528470451357437</id><published>2011-07-15T17:54:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:45:17.641-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Adhem, ahem was an accident; &lt;br /&gt;a name that broke out &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;from the air, the other end of the barrel&lt;br /&gt;who sung &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;I’m the chosen &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one&lt;/span&gt;, &amp; wondered how to make &lt;br /&gt;the gun say Ah, men&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-8565528470451357437?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8565528470451357437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8565528470451357437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/adhem-ahem-was-accident-name-that-broke.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5336995591793358647</id><published>2011-07-15T14:19:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:45:17.641-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'>Dhikr</title><content type='html'>Because I am allowed &lt;br /&gt;to write this then I’m &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;allowed because it is&lt;br /&gt;allowable to write this then&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it’s law because it is allawable &lt;br /&gt;then the rite is God’s wa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;’allahi O Lawd &lt;br /&gt;because you rite this then &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there is no law but la' &lt;br /&gt;a law who, ach, bar&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;because each law allows&lt;br /&gt;me less &amp; follows you &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to where you’re all &lt;br /&gt;there's been enough allot&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5336995591793358647?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5336995591793358647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5336995591793358647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/because-i-am-allowed-to-write-this-then.html' title='Dhikr'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-2771406780595953120</id><published>2011-07-11T18:29:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T02:43:09.901-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Celanian</title><content type='html'>The room you shut your language in&lt;br /&gt;was full. There, grew a word  &lt;br /&gt;too gasping to be sung;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;no sun broke through it, only&lt;br /&gt;blindness, &amp;amp; the shriek of feathered&lt;br /&gt;things, circadianally sound.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-2771406780595953120?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2771406780595953120'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2771406780595953120'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/celanian.html' title='Celanian'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7082633199448521758</id><published>2011-07-11T12:53:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-11-21T15:48:36.796-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A Sufi prayer:&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lord, if I’ve crossed two lines &lt;br /&gt;that can't, let this work kaboom&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7082633199448521758?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7082633199448521758'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7082633199448521758'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/lord-if-ive-ever-crossed-two-lines-that.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-3945233454773746543</id><published>2011-07-09T13:02:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:45:17.642-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The surfaces of all things &lt;br /&gt;startle, like the sea &lt;br /&gt;that doesn’t drown; I will cover&lt;br /&gt;these letters -- say O.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-3945233454773746543?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3945233454773746543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3945233454773746543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/surfaces-of-all-things-startle-like-sea.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-6700220241170419298</id><published>2011-07-09T12:41:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:45:17.643-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Give this fish wings, if it's flopped, &lt;br /&gt;&amp; if, one day it falls, a flood.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-6700220241170419298?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6700220241170419298'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6700220241170419298'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/give-this-fish-wings-if-its-flopped-if.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-3188628630870755245</id><published>2011-07-04T15:02:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T15:12:36.620-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>But this is love; the strain&lt;br /&gt;of the adhan buzzing through&lt;br /&gt;the house &amp; the fact of this noise&lt;br /&gt;never becoming music.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-3188628630870755245?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3188628630870755245'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3188628630870755245'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/but-this-is-love-strain-of-adhan.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-4878128345560753064</id><published>2011-07-04T14:59:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:45:17.643-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Some letters get lost in Amrica; &lt;br /&gt;they keep a barbar like me damned, &lt;br /&gt;but Sam, they drop the am. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr. Adhem, ahem, do you&lt;br /&gt;right or left? Can you sing&lt;br /&gt;our anthems? Stand&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;down. State your name. &lt;br /&gt;Open wide. How long&lt;br /&gt;have you had this cough?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-4878128345560753064?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4878128345560753064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4878128345560753064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/some-letters-get-lost-in-amrica.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1246356497839078151</id><published>2011-07-04T02:03:00.019-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T12:43:30.300-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We fed, that night, on wine, until the night&lt;br /&gt;felt like the day; until day's stars&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;broke through the dark &amp;amp; night’s had&lt;br /&gt;fled away; until night fell, &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;winning us the sweetest bliss, while we &lt;br /&gt;remained untouched by care or fault.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If that night was longer, my joy may &lt;br /&gt;have lingered on. But, O, these nights are few. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ibn Zaydun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وليلٍ أدَمْنَا فيهِ شربَ مدامة&lt;br /&gt;  إلى أنْ بَدَا للصّبْحِ، في اللّيلِ، تأثيرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وجاءتْ نجومُ الصّبحِ تضربُ في الدّجى&lt;br /&gt;  فوَلّتْ نجومُ اللّيلِ، وَالّليلُ مَقهورُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فحُزْنا مِنَ اللّذَاتِ أطْيَبَ طِيبِها،&lt;br /&gt;  ولَمْ يَعُرْنا هَمٌّ، وَلا عاقَ تَكْدِيرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;خلا أنّهُ، لَوْ طالَ، دامتْ مسرّني،&lt;br /&gt;  ولَكِنْ ليالي الوَصْلِ، فِيهنّ تَقصِيرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ابن زيدون&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1246356497839078151?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1246356497839078151'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1246356497839078151'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/we-fed-one-night-on-wine-until-night.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5741297560545242116</id><published>2011-07-03T21:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:45:17.644-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A light got lodged inside my throat, &lt;br /&gt;now I can only go&lt;br /&gt;uh oh, uh oh, uh oh, uh oh.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5741297560545242116?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5741297560545242116'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5741297560545242116'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/my-god-got-lodged-inside-my-throat-now.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1095955973043571564</id><published>2011-07-03T21:33:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-04T12:42:47.183-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Your house grows hollow as you grow;&lt;br /&gt;a father’s deafness. Echo, echo.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1095955973043571564?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1095955973043571564'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1095955973043571564'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/07/your-house-grows-hollow-as-you-grow.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-6279666989202380494</id><published>2011-06-27T16:17:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-15T02:44:56.637-04:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>O gently soaring bird, bring&lt;br /&gt;word from me; don’t leave me wailing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You take, with God your guide, a note &lt;br /&gt;from me, to a land where I once &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;knew the way; to wilds Layla&lt;br /&gt;may be found astray. On her, my heart &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;depends; &amp;amp; if this bird, one day, returned &lt;br /&gt;to me from far away, I’d take my last bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qays ibn al-Mulawwah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أيها الطير المحلق غادياً&lt;br /&gt;تحمل سلامي لا تذرني مناديا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تَحَمَّلُ هّدَاكَ اللّه مِنِّي رِسَالة ً&lt;br /&gt;إلى بلد إن كنت بالأرض هاديا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;إلى قفرة من نحو ليلى مضلة&lt;br /&gt;بها الْقَلْبُ مِنِّي مُوثَقٌ وفؤَادِيَا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ألاَ لَيْتَ يَوْمَاً حَلَّ بِي مِنْ فِرَاقِكُمْ&lt;br /&gt;تَزَوَّدْتُ ذاك اليومَ آخِرَ زادِيَا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قيس بن الموح&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-6279666989202380494?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6279666989202380494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6279666989202380494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/06/o-gently-soaring-bird-bring-word-from.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-903986951059760593</id><published>2011-06-22T17:38:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T21:58:08.804-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Should you alight, O raven of severance, &lt;br /&gt;in the land of Layla, ask to talk:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;give my hello to her &amp; my crushes,&lt;br /&gt;but keep her far from others’ babble. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qays ibn al-Mulawwah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ألا يا غراب البين إن كنت هابطاً&lt;br /&gt;  بِلاَداً لِلَيْلَى فَالْتَمِسْ أنْ تَكَلَّمَا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وَبَلِّغْ تَحِيَّاتِي إلَيْهَا وَصَبْوَتِي&lt;br /&gt;  وكن بعدها عن سائر الناس أعجما&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قيس بن الموح&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-903986951059760593?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/903986951059760593'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/903986951059760593'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/06/should-you-alight-o-raven-of-severance.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-4130689586634595425</id><published>2011-06-22T13:33:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-07-03T22:00:05.895-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>My leave of Leila’s naught between us&lt;br /&gt;but a night to me, standing by.    &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qays ibn al-Mulawwah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أَأَتْرُكُ لَيْلَى لَيْسَ بَيْني وَبَيْنَها&lt;br /&gt; سِوَى لَيْلَة ٍ، إنِّي إذاً لَصَبُورُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قيس بن الملوح&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-4130689586634595425?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4130689586634595425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4130689586634595425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/06/my-leave-of-leilas-naught-between-us.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-4567938906428623948</id><published>2011-06-21T18:46:00.016-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:45:17.645-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The world’s part with a fin’s&lt;br /&gt;end, leaving all’s left&lt;br /&gt;back to where it’s. A cleft&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Musa moved sea &amp;amp; self&lt;br /&gt;by saying Is, his stick&lt;br /&gt;his only word.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He made the sea&lt;br /&gt;search endlessly for a noun&lt;br /&gt;among itself, so it split, &amp;amp;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;left both sea &amp;amp; Musa&lt;br /&gt;deeper for the it making&lt;br /&gt;them bereft.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-4567938906428623948?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4567938906428623948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4567938906428623948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/06/worlds-part-with-fins-end-leaving-alls.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7699203964511723527</id><published>2011-06-20T15:00:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-02T14:45:17.645-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>In the uh there was a ukh,&lt;br /&gt;from the cough of the word, &lt;br /&gt;came a calf: meat&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we ate like it wasn’t golden, &lt;br /&gt;&amp; saw ourselves more godly by&lt;br /&gt;till we ingested it. Then out &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;spilled the soft gold from our&lt;br /&gt;gut, leaving our throats&lt;br /&gt;gilded, &amp; our god molded anew. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With a flake of god &lt;br /&gt;in our gullets, we sung, to gold &lt;br /&gt;resembling what was hung&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;inside us. O you, who turn up all&lt;br /&gt;you eat, will find your food&lt;br /&gt;insepr’ble from your song.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7699203964511723527?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7699203964511723527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7699203964511723527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/06/in-uh-there-was-ukh-from-cough-of-word.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1749451221780651330</id><published>2011-06-10T16:47:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-10T17:02:18.255-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Tawasin of the Prophetic Lamp</title><content type='html'>(work in progress)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1 .From the Light of the Unseen arose a lamp. It appeared &amp;amp; returned – reigning, its light outgleamed all other lamps: a moon among moons beaming, a star whose sign was housed within Empyrean. The True named him “Unlettered,” for the aim of his intention &amp;amp; “Forbidden,” for the greatness of his gift &amp;amp; “Situated [Meccan],” for the nearness of his home to Him (The True).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. He bared his heart &amp;amp; raised his power – he imposed his rule and manifested his moon. His lamp showed light from Magnanimity’s mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. He related nothing but that which his eye had seen into the heart of. He paved no path, but that which was plain for truth. He was present (before The True), so he conveyed His Presence.  He saw, so spoke. He was sent as guide, so he set limits.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. No one could discern the depth of his achievement, save the sincere, who makes himself agreeable with him &amp;amp; cleaves to him,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. so between them there would no longer stretch a rift. No Gnostic knows this, save he who is ignorant of His Attribute:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. “Those to whom We have given the Book, who recognize their sons, even though a part of them knowingly conceals the truth.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Prophetic lights sprouted from his light, their lights, from his lights, manifested; there is no light more light, more bare, &amp;amp; older than age, than the light alighted by the Lord of Generosity. His intention preceded all intentions, His existence preexisted Nothingness, His name was word before the Pen;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. Since he preceded nations, there was never anyone on, beyond, below horizon, more graceful, nobler, wiser, more just &amp;amp; kinder, more Godly fearing &amp;amp; more sympathetic than the holder of his rank. He is the Master of Creation &amp;amp; that his name (the most praised, ahmd): his quality is singular, his command is certainty, his essence is excellence, his attribute is glory, his aspiration is unmatchable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;9. O wonder! How manifest, how visible, how great, how famous, how brilliant, how powerful, how penetrating another there is naught. He was and is &amp;amp; known before beginnings, before beings. He was and is &amp;amp; there before Before and after After – before substances and qualities. His substance is clear, his speech prophetic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;10. His knowledge is exalted, his tongue is Arabic. His tribe is “neither East nor West”: his lineage is patriarchal, his mission is conciliation. His title is Unlettered. He brought vision through his signs to seeing eyes – through him the mysteries were recognized.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;11. The True made him speak and the Proof substantiated him. The True sent him forth as the Proven and the Proof.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12. It is him who cleared the rust from the shackled heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;13. It is him who carried forth the ancient word, unconditioned &amp;amp; unuttered &amp;amp; unfettered but united indivisibly to Him. It is he who announced the end of The Ends, and the ends of The End.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14. He lifted the cloud and pointed to the Sacred House.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15. He is perfect &amp;amp; gallant. It is he who was brought out to break the idols &amp;amp; against the slander and the sin of men was sent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16. Above him flashed a cloud &amp;amp; below him a bolt – announcing light &amp;amp; rain &amp;amp; growth. The bulk of knowledge is nothing but a volume in His sea. The whole of wisdom is no greater than a handful from His stream. The ages are an hour to His time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17. The True is with him &amp;amp; with him is the truth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18. He is the first link.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19. He is the last among the prophets. Inward he bears truth &amp;amp; outward gnosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20. No learned man has ever reached his knowledge &amp;amp; no wise man ever proved his understanding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21. . The True did not submit His truth to His creation; because he is he &amp;amp; he is he &amp;amp; him is him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22. Nothing escaped the eM of MHMD (Muhammad) &amp;amp; no one entered the Ha -- his second eM. The first eM is his Dee. His Dee is his duration. His eM is his mark. His Ha is his habitual state, which is his second M.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23. The True manifested his speech &amp;amp; deepened his sign &amp;amp; revealed his proof. He sent the furqan down to him &amp;amp; attuned his tongue, making that which dwells deep in him glow, hindering all others from imitation. He caused clarity &amp;amp; magnified his glory.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24. If you shun his law, what direction will you follow, O afflicted? No guide is here: the wisdom of wise men to his wisdom is a sliding heap of sand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mansur Al-Hallaj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1749451221780651330?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1749451221780651330'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1749451221780651330'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/06/tawasin-of-prophetic-lamp.html' title='Tawasin of the Prophetic Lamp'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-8084128335428861816</id><published>2011-06-04T20:02:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-05T01:11:24.290-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mutanabbi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Dark is the day before it’s seen; an adjective’s&lt;br /&gt;untrue until it's verified by sight, &amp;amp; since&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;people flock till they no longer find a reason to,&lt;br /&gt;no images of you exist for me, only sounds;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;far off from the lot, I'd stand &lt;br /&gt;witness to all my eye saw secondhand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You raise, King Rumi, the glance of Day&lt;br /&gt;with your forgiveness, which is a victory for it;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;since you responded to its call, it shines, still,&lt;br /&gt;proudly upon all your lands.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Their necks were saved from swords,&lt;br /&gt;while the lot stayed looking, you substituted &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;swords for people, so that you could&lt;br /&gt;gain more heads, more crowds &amp;amp; power over them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your generousness is like a morning rain, &lt;br /&gt;itself a generosity from you, enjoyed by rain;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the sun, too, earns its light from you&lt;br /&gt;as the moon earns its light from the sun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al-Mutanabbi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ظُلمٌ لذا اليَوْمِ وَصْفٌ قبلَ رُؤيَتِه&lt;br /&gt;لا يصْدُقُ الوَصْفُ حتى يَصْدُقَ النظرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تَزَاحَمَ الجَيشُ حتى لم يَجِدْ سَبَباً&lt;br /&gt;  إلى بِساطِكَ لي سَمْعٌ وَلا بَصَرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فكُنتُ أشهَدَ مُخْتَصٍّ وَأغْيَبَهُ&lt;br /&gt; مُعَايِناً وَعِيَاني كُلُّهُ خَبَرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ألْيَوْمَ يَرْفَعُ مَلْكُ الرّومِ نَاظرَهُ&lt;br /&gt;  لأنّ عَفوَكَ عَنْهُ عندَهُ ظَفَرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وَإنْ أجَبْتَ بشَيْءٍ عَنْ رَسائِلِهِ&lt;br /&gt;  فَمَا يَزالُ على الأمْلاكِ يَفْتَخِرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قَدِ اسْتَرَاحَتْ إلى وَقْتٍ رِقابُهُمُ&lt;br /&gt;  منَ السّيوفِ وَباقي القَوْمِ يَنتَظِرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وَقَدْ تُبَدِّلُهَا بالقَوْمِ غَيْرَهُمُ&lt;br /&gt;  لكيْ تَجِمَّ رُؤوسُ القَوْمِ وَالقَصَرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تَشبيهُ جُودِكَ بالأمْطارِ غَادِيَةً&lt;br /&gt;  جُودٌ لكَفّكَ ثانٍ نَالَهُ المَطَرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;تكَسَّبُ الشمْسُ منكَ النّورَ طالعَةً&lt;br /&gt;  كمَا تَكَسّبَ منها نُورَهُ القَمَرُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من ديوان المتنبي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;____&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mutanabbi’s panegyric dabbles in the very essence of praise – which is also the essence of language: that is, the question of what certifies the bond between language and objects. In this poem, the apparent “primary source” of language is sight, but the poet resists the seduction of vision to maintain the mysteriousness between the real and the imagined. A different kind of praise emerges; if the object of veneration is worthy of the veneration than it will verified by the world itself. Hence the religious monomania of the description; if the object of veneration is proven in the very shudder of the world around him, than he must stand at the center of all likeness. Greatness is not the particular skill of an individual to embody “great” qualities, but the generosity of allowing everything around you to verify the greatness of your qualities.  But the real radical gesture of this poem is that the poet situates absence at the center of this greatness, so that truth remains inescapable from belief. What I have translated here as “verify” (يصدق) suggests a proof contingent upon feeling, or sincerity; not truth in the abstract sense (حق) which is truth embodied in itself – the one is the lot of men, the other is the lot of God. The poet imagines that the truth of Description lies in the ability of the great man to generate affinities.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-8084128335428861816?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8084128335428861816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8084128335428861816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/06/dark-is-day-before-its-seen-adjectives.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7770372618305224503</id><published>2011-05-17T19:41:00.020-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-02T13:42:29.583-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>We were letters -- lofty &amp;amp; unlipped, set&lt;br /&gt;atop the apex's highest alp, where&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was you &amp;amp; we was you, you he &amp;amp; All&lt;br /&gt;in he he; ask any who once passed through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ibn Arabi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كُنَّا حُروفاً عالياتٍ لمْ نُقلْ&lt;br /&gt;مُتعلِّقاتٍ في ذُرَى أعلى القُلَلْ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أَنَا أَنْتَ فيهِ وَنَحنُ أَنْتَ وأَنْتَ هُوْ&lt;br /&gt;والكلُّ في هو هُوْ فَسلْ عَمَّنْ وَصَلْ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ابن عربي&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7770372618305224503?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7770372618305224503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7770372618305224503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/05/we-were-letters-set-lofty-unlipped-upon.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-3471060026435599532</id><published>2011-04-05T13:47:00.038-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T20:43:02.656-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Layla and Majnun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>From your love, Layla</title><content type='html'>&lt;style&gt;@font-face {   font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; &lt;/style&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"  &gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for M.H.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From your love, Layla, my name is known; so all&lt;br /&gt;can tell the sake for which I suffer now;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; for what rabid, violent love I bend, when any,&lt;br /&gt;from one pang of want, would bow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is she to a glance, but grief; a flicker&lt;br /&gt;spurring a fire's dying breath to glow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;O Layla, you don’t smite with  repulsion or disdain;&lt;br /&gt;since sympathy &amp;amp; mercy's all you vow;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for you (O God) I’m follower &amp;amp; phile,&lt;br /&gt;eaten up by love that doesn't show:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;terrified a traitor, or a tattler, or a coveter, break&lt;br /&gt;a word of what the people don’t already know.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Qays ibn al-Mulawwah&lt;br /&gt;from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Majnun and Layla&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="times new roman" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" face="times new roman" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;______&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;بحبك يا ليلى قد اصبحت شهرة&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;و كل بما القاه عندك يفهم&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;صريع من الحب المبرح و الجوى&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;و اي فتى من لوعة البين يسلم&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;و ما هي الا حسرة بعد نظرة&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;اثارت لهيبا في الحشاشة يضرم&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;فلا تقتليني بالصدود و بالقلى&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;و مثلك يا ليلى يرق و يرحم&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;فولله اني فيك عان و عاشق&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;اذوب غراما فيك و الحب اكتم&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;مخافة واش او رقيب و حاسد&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;يحدث ما لا كانت الناس تعلم&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;قيس بن الملوح&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;" &gt;من ديوان مجنون و ليلى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-3471060026435599532?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3471060026435599532'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3471060026435599532'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/04/font-face-font-family-cambria-p.html' title='From your love, Layla'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-3315354173122936486</id><published>2011-01-12T15:33:00.007-05:00</published><updated>2011-08-07T11:55:02.675-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Abu Nuwas'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A heart, a soul, a body,&lt;br /&gt;subsist on four things:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the water, the garden,&lt;br /&gt;the wine, the pretty face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abu Nuwas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;اربعة يحيا بها&lt;br /&gt;قبل و روح و بدن&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;الماء و البستان و ال&lt;br /&gt;خمرة و الوجه الحسن&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ابو نواس&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-3315354173122936486?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3315354173122936486'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3315354173122936486'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/01/heart-soul-body-live-on-four-things.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-8937729585841861012</id><published>2011-01-12T14:56:00.008-05:00</published><updated>2011-02-05T11:33:32.044-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Abu Nuwas'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I see the glass is true &amp;amp; see naught&lt;br /&gt;in any else, but a fellow drunk's;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the axis Pleasure’s grinding-stone&lt;br /&gt;once turned upon ages ago.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abu Nuwas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ارى للكأس حقا لا اراه&lt;br /&gt;لغير الكأس الا للنديم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;هي القطب الذي دارت عليه&lt;br /&gt;رحى الذات في الزمن القديم&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ابو نواس&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-8937729585841861012?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8937729585841861012'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8937729585841861012'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/01/i-see-glass-is-true-see-naught-in-any.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-4467114474173615226</id><published>2011-01-11T14:43:00.015-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T15:33:15.629-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mawqif'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niffari'/><title type='text'>Mawqif of Station</title><content type='html'>He stopped me on my way &amp;amp; said to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know your station’s stopped before me now; I told you to come in, so come in.  And when my Absence overwhelms you, come in."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There’s no question of your station. It’s the house acquainting you with brethren of the heaven &amp;amp; the earth; the place through which they pass &amp;amp; converse with you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said "stop before me," so I stopped, but he, seeing how I sought him, didn’t act.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said "I seek to act &amp;amp; for you to see me act: your station's in this vision, whereby you see ME act, like you see no one else. This place is the door to that place; this -- the place of your feebleness &amp;amp; that-- the place of your sustenance."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Niffari&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-4467114474173615226?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4467114474173615226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4467114474173615226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2011/01/mawqif-of-station.html' title='Mawqif of Station'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-6476566320354181013</id><published>2010-12-24T17:14:00.016-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-09T15:34:14.752-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='mawqif'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Niffari'/><title type='text'>Mawqif of the Path of Knowledge</title><content type='html'>He stopped me on my way &amp;amp; said to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"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 &amp;amp; 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, &amp;amp; nothing after gain."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;al Niffari&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-6476566320354181013?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6476566320354181013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/6476566320354181013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/12/mawqif-1.html' title='Mawqif of the Path of Knowledge'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-8615103829516301316</id><published>2010-12-16T15:40:00.012-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-27T15:13:31.254-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To a suicide's room</title><content type='html'>Did you always feel aired out? &lt;br /&gt;A bleated, empty O; pathetic&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;parenthetic, the walls ringing&lt;br /&gt;for that which they’re without; was it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;always so? Or does this open seeming&lt;br /&gt;space stammer with your loss --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ocean breadth in which&lt;br /&gt;the act's carried out, &amp; out ?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-8615103829516301316?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8615103829516301316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8615103829516301316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/12/to-dead-mans-room.html' title='To a suicide&apos;s room'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5120213413930432974</id><published>2010-12-16T03:59:00.019-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-27T01:05:51.947-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>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.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5120213413930432974?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5120213413930432974'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5120213413930432974'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/12/font-face-font-family-cambria-p_16.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7425815957253669890</id><published>2010-12-10T15:27:00.020-05:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T01:04:00.112-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“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.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Movements, Musa -- mo’ments&lt;br /&gt;lead to nowhere, unlike a letter:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the former being open and&lt;br /&gt;undocumented, the latter –&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;accusations; La La,&lt;br /&gt;is it be’er&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to be exact, carving the air&lt;br /&gt;we sound, or caught&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mumuring &amp;amp; all the world hears?&lt;br /&gt;A barbarous barber's cut:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two lambs&lt;br /&gt;I dash, in your name,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;two tongues that hold&lt;br /&gt;the mouth still open&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to see if you answer&lt;br /&gt;to it; a mutilated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;air.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;style&gt;@font-face {   font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;style&gt;@font-face {   font-family: "Cambria"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0in 0in 10pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }&lt;/style&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7425815957253669890?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7425815957253669890'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7425815957253669890'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/12/font-face-font-family-cambria-p.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-2541071589808763611</id><published>2010-12-05T21:48:00.025-05:00</published><updated>2011-06-12T14:25:12.830-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Abu Nuwas'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>The house is near</title><content type='html'>That house's near to mine that grows&lt;br /&gt;farther from one who's far from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw the feast &amp;amp; found it ugly; seeing&lt;br /&gt;no one drunk; though people throng,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with you out of sight,&lt;br /&gt;I can’t make out a one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Abu Nuwas&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يا قريب الدار من داري و قد&lt;br /&gt;زاد في البعد على من بعدا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فد شهدت العيد فاستسمجته&lt;br /&gt;ذاك ان لم تك فيمن شهدا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;حوالي الناس كأني لا ارى&lt;br /&gt;منهم اذ غبت عني احدا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ابو نواس&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-2541071589808763611?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2541071589808763611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2541071589808763611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/12/house-is-near.html' title='The house is near'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5157320860404022616</id><published>2010-10-28T01:49:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T00:47:59.717-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Autobiography of the you who's written.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5157320860404022616?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5157320860404022616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5157320860404022616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/10/someone-needs-to-write-autobiography-of.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-2886832649131316982</id><published>2010-10-19T13:36:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2010-11-08T01:27:07.247-05:00</updated><title type='text'>E.D.</title><content type='html'>ما اجلد الروح&lt;br /&gt;فهو قد يحمل&lt;br /&gt;وزن القدم&lt;br /&gt;و فتح الباب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What fortitude the Soul contains,&lt;br /&gt;That it can so endure&lt;br /&gt;The accent of a coming Foot--&lt;br /&gt;The opening of a Door--  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Emily Dickinson&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-2886832649131316982?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2886832649131316982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2886832649131316982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/10/ed.html' title='E.D.'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5058676603644379451</id><published>2010-10-17T04:57:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2010-10-17T04:59:57.624-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Shrapnel</title><content type='html'>You can tell they're tourists by the fact they raise their heads.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5058676603644379451?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5058676603644379451'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5058676603644379451'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/10/shrapnel.html' title='Shrapnel'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7249962398073729319</id><published>2010-10-06T11:07:00.023-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T01:05:22.085-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Khidr Series'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The Khidr hid my sea to find a fish --&lt;br /&gt;it bit, leaving the bark in&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;me halved, so I separated&lt;br /&gt;sung: once for the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;where it is left &amp;amp; for the bit&lt;br /&gt;that held it noticeably -- back;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my Musa choked, la la, my angelis&lt;br /&gt;now exorcised, I Cough; خ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;ya khidr’an, how many ibn’an&lt;br /&gt;‘ll break within my name&lt;br /&gt;before I can begin&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; sons of sons&lt;br /&gt;to gag by a sin&lt;br /&gt;gle fin? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7249962398073729319?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7249962398073729319'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7249962398073729319'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/10/font-face-font-family-cambria-p.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-4275462813963058942</id><published>2010-09-18T18:01:00.024-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T20:43:48.306-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Layla and Majnun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>The raven croak by day, the book&lt;br /&gt;of separation 'ready writ, says Layla’s bound away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've fled the only family I love; &amp;amp; arrow-like,&lt;br /&gt;for fletchings, I'm torn a flock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qays ibn al-Mulawwah&lt;br /&gt;from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Layla and Majnun &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;نعب الغراب ببين ليلى غُدوة | فأتى الكتاب ببينهم مخطوطا&lt;br /&gt;أصبحت من أهلي الذين أحبهم | كالسهم أصبح ريشه ممروطا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;من مجنون ليلى&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-4275462813963058942?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4275462813963058942'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/4275462813963058942'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/09/font-face-font-family-cambria-p.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7879213352973583503</id><published>2010-08-13T22:47:00.009-04:00</published><updated>2011-08-18T20:44:46.543-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Layla and Majnun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>I thought of you</title><content type='html'>اخذ ابوه بيده الى محفل من الناس في ايام الحج فسألهم ابوه ان يدعوا الله تعالي بالفراج فلما اخذ الناس في الدعاء انشأ يقول&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ذكرتك والحجيج لهم ضجيج&lt;br /&gt;بمكة والقلوب لها وجيب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فَقُلْتُ وَنَحْنُ فِي بَلدٍ حَرامٍ&lt;br /&gt;بِهِ واللّه أُخْلِصَتِ القلُوبُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أتوب إليك يارحمن مما&lt;br /&gt;عملت فقد تظاهرت الذنوب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فأما من هوى ليلى وتركي&lt;br /&gt;زِيارتَها فَإنِّي لا أَتوبُ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وكيف وعندها قلبي رهين&lt;br /&gt;أتوب إليك منها أو أنيب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قيس بن الملوح‎&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;[The poet's] father drags him by the hand to a gathering of some in the midst of their Pilgrimage. His father asks them to implore God for his sake --- for freedom from sin. As the people take to prayer, [the poet] says:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought of you, as heart-crossed pilgrims&lt;br /&gt;mixed their wail by Makkah; in this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hallowed land I called on Him, who&lt;br /&gt;parts the heart of disbelief: O&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merciful, forgive me all for all I’ve done&lt;br /&gt;that smacked or smelt of sin,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but as to my love for Layla &amp;amp; me leaving her&lt;br /&gt;to foot her course alone -- I can’t side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;with you; how could I, since she has my heart&lt;br /&gt;devoted, turn to you, leaving her spurned?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Qays ibn al-Mulawwah, from "Layla and Majnun"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7879213352973583503?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7879213352973583503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7879213352973583503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/08/i-thought-of-you.html' title='I thought of you'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-2771606124200565255</id><published>2010-06-29T15:23:00.023-04:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:13:33.780-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mutanabbi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Night fell; your favor never falls, your sight's&lt;br /&gt;more suited to the eye than being shut;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you showed such grace that even half of me&lt;br /&gt;was made to testify against the rest it ever was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The calm above the heavens is His roof,&lt;br /&gt;you worship him walkingly on earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al-Mutanabbi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مضَى اللّيلُ والفضْلُ الذي لك لا يمضِي&lt;br /&gt;ورُؤياكَ أحلى في العيونِ من الغُمضِ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;على أنّني طُوّقْتُ مِنْكَ بنِعْمَةٍ&lt;br /&gt;شَهيدٌ بها بعضِي لغيري على بَعضي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سَلامُ الذي فَوْقَ السّماواتِ عَرْشُهُ&lt;br /&gt;تُخَصّ بهِ يا خَيرَ ماشٍ على الأرْضِ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;المتنبي&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-2771606124200565255?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2771606124200565255'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/2771606124200565255'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/06/night-fell-but-your-favor-never-falls.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-645239589979874336</id><published>2010-06-23T15:51:00.032-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-13T12:24:30.228-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Layla and Majnun'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>from Majnun and Layla</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JgxwC78Don0/TCKIPxva4BI/AAAAAAAAAGU/qX_BaMPoFPs/s1600/Layla_and_Majnun2.jpg"&gt;&lt;img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5486097100722331666" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JgxwC78Don0/TCKIPxva4BI/AAAAAAAAAGU/qX_BaMPoFPs/s320/Layla_and_Majnun2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 348px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 240px;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;إذا نظـرت  نحوي  تكلم طرفهـا&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;وجاوبـها طرفي ونحن سكـوت&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;فواحـدة منهـا تبشـر باللقـا&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;وأخـرى لها نفسي تكاد تـموت&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;إذا مت خوف الياس احياني الرجا&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;فكـم مرة قد مت ثـم حييـت&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;ولو أحدقوا بي الإنس والجن كلهم&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black; font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;لكي يـمنعوني أن أجيك لجيـت&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span lang="ar"&gt;قيس بن الملوح&lt;/span&gt;‎&lt;br /&gt;من ديوان مجنون و ليلى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she turned an eye towards me, it spoke;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;amp; with a look, I answered mutely back:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;one glance from her is the chance&lt;br /&gt;of an encounter, another’s almost dying:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when despair terrified me to death, this little ghost&lt;br /&gt;revived me (how many times I've died only to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So if the men &amp;amp; jinn begird me&lt;br /&gt;to defer my journey, I'll still come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Qays ibn al-Mulawwah, from "Majnun and Layla"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt;(“The fainting of Laylah and Majnun,” a Persian illustration of&lt;br /&gt;a scene from Nizami's&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 85%;"&gt; adaptation of the poem. Source: Library of Congress)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The majnun (or madman) of "Layla and Majnun" is actually the poet himself -- the work is an outpouring of poetry dedicated to Layla -- unlike the Persian adaptation of the work by Nizami, Qay's work really doesn't contain a solid narrative structure -- bearing more resemblance to Petrarch's Canzoniere (though Qays was around nearly 9 centuries before Petrarch!). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-645239589979874336?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/645239589979874336'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/645239589979874336'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/06/when-she-turns-her-eye-to-me-it-speaks.html' title='from Majnun and Layla'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_JgxwC78Don0/TCKIPxva4BI/AAAAAAAAAGU/qX_BaMPoFPs/s72-c/Layla_and_Majnun2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5462593557442940019</id><published>2010-06-22T02:21:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T01:54:17.959-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'>from Interpreter of Desires</title><content type='html'>ليت شعري هل دروا&lt;br /&gt;اي قلب ملكوا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;و فوادي لو درى&lt;br /&gt;اي شعب سلكوا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;اتراهم سلموا&lt;br /&gt;ام تراهم هلكوا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;حار ارباب الهوى&lt;br /&gt;في الهوى و ارتبكوا&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ابن عربي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would that I could tell if they&lt;br /&gt;had known the heart they held,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or my heart, if it could know&lt;br /&gt;what mountain trail they trod.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Did they seem safe to you,&lt;br /&gt;or did they look already dead?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those who lorded love, in love, turned&lt;br /&gt;upon themselves and were ensnared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Ibn Arabi&lt;br /&gt;Section I from  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Interpreter of Desires&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5462593557442940019?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5462593557442940019'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5462593557442940019'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/06/would-that-i-could-tell-if-they-had.html' title='from Interpreter of Desires'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-3342823092776753798</id><published>2010-06-03T16:28:00.018-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-06T15:42:46.723-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Miranda</title><content type='html'>Writing do you wave, O wond'r,&lt;br /&gt;water's blue cardiac over green,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;you do not spell, you monstrous sit&lt;br /&gt;on the dumb shore &amp;amp; pond'r&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if this only coast is that o'er&lt;br /&gt;which you’d break your prospr's word (you do):&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wondrous, wondrous. Was it&lt;br /&gt;then this all-ey'd sea,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lawer to your farther shore,&lt;br /&gt;that never turn'd a shape more&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;diff'rnt than what&lt;br /&gt;submerg'd your own --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the first shore furth'r from that&lt;br /&gt;which sing'rly broke in you, or was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another the world&lt;br /&gt;made erworld by?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You stare to Ur &amp;amp; utter,&lt;br /&gt;you wave your rite&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;to silent&lt;br /&gt;be, to b', O n'w, O no'.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-3342823092776753798?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3342823092776753798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3342823092776753798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/06/miranda.html' title='Miranda'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-502108814595542876</id><published>2010-06-01T18:49:00.024-04:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:17:00.611-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mutanabbi'/><title type='text'>Foot of Al-Khidr</title><content type='html'>مَرَتْكَ ابنَ إبراهيمَ صافِيَةُ الخَمْرِ&lt;br /&gt;وهُنّئْتَها من شارِبٍ مُسكرِ السُّكرِ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;رأيْتُ الحُمَيّا في الزّجاجِ بكَفّهِ&lt;br /&gt;فشَبّهْتُها بالشمسِ في البدرِ في البحرِ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;إذا ما ذكَرْنا جُودَهُ كانَ حاضِراً&lt;br /&gt;نأى أوْ دَنا يسعى على قدمِ الخِضْرِ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;المتنبي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Your wholesomeness, Ibn Ibrahim, is the purest&lt;br /&gt;liquor; you drink to it with drunkenness's blend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I watched the wine as it filled the glass &amp;amp; likened it&lt;br /&gt;to the sun by the moon by the sea;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;even when we don’t observe its generousness, it's there --&lt;br /&gt;far or near, moving with the foot of Al Khidr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al Mutanabbi&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-502108814595542876?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/502108814595542876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/502108814595542876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/06/foot-of-al-khidr.html' title='Foot of Al-Khidr'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-917476165553625322</id><published>2010-05-30T15:43:00.024-04:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T02:33:34.965-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mutanabbi'/><title type='text'>After Mutanabbi</title><content type='html'>(second draft)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For you was named that&lt;br /&gt;which after you are&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;called and cast&lt;br /&gt;what before you was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;planetary dark&lt;br /&gt;you followed it as if&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;the severed part of you&lt;br /&gt;lay on its shadowed side&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They called you Golden&lt;br /&gt;Golden not after the ungodly&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;sun that burns above&lt;br /&gt;our days and burning nights&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;but Golden as in blood&lt;br /&gt;bereft of kin&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;endless circulation&lt;br /&gt;My gilded son go blind and be&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;that whose name&lt;br /&gt;you intermingle with&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My orphan gold lead&lt;br /&gt;me from dark bringing fire&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-917476165553625322?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/917476165553625322'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/917476165553625322'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/05/after-mutanabbi.html' title='After Mutanabbi'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5531982107734013066</id><published>2010-05-27T12:26:00.022-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-05T01:25:13.362-04:00</updated><title type='text'>خط</title><content type='html'>I kiss the tongue that slips&lt;br /&gt;your accent through my English, in remembrance,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp; lick the ledge’s fault, where your &lt;br /&gt;foot slipped towards your fall. Once &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wet, the page doesn’t part, but stays&lt;br /&gt;open to that city grid, where the speck &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;of you remains; tribute&lt;br /&gt;to a place the ink was &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;run. Father, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;abi&lt;/span&gt;, they are coming&lt;br /&gt;to kill me; demanding my left hand,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp; all the ink I squandered on it &lt;br /&gt;dragging over their script,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;has found itself back on my skin.&lt;br /&gt;Your running name, my blackened &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;thumb, will make a mess of us, &lt;br /&gt;or else, a map. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5531982107734013066?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5531982107734013066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5531982107734013066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/05/blog-post.html' title='خط'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-8663305941532201572</id><published>2010-05-22T14:47:00.017-04:00</published><updated>2010-09-20T20:13:30.103-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mutanabbi'/><title type='text'>Al-Mutanabbi</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="poem"&gt;كَتَمْتُ حُبّكِ حتى منكِ تكرمَةً&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="poem"&gt; ثمّ اسْتَوَى فيهِ إسراري وإعْلاني&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="poem"&gt;كأنّهُ زادَ حتى فَاضَ عَن جَسَدي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="poem"&gt; فصارَ سُقْمي بهِ في جِسْمِ كِتماني&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;المتنبي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until our love was honored I concealed it,&lt;br /&gt;so that what was held equaled what remained without:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it grew to overflow my flesh, turning&lt;br /&gt;into toxic for my hidden self.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-8663305941532201572?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8663305941532201572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8663305941532201572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/05/al-mutanabbi_22.html' title='Al-Mutanabbi'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-1844269560236218444</id><published>2010-05-19T15:43:00.025-04:00</published><updated>2012-02-10T14:18:29.819-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mutanabbi'/><title type='text'>Al-Mutanabbi</title><content type='html'>لمّا نُسِبْتَ فكُنْتَ ابْناً لِغَيرِ أبٍ&lt;br /&gt;ثمّ اخْتُبِرْتَ فَلَمْ تَرْجعْ إلى أدَبِ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سُمّيتَ بالذّهَبيّ اليَوْمَ تَسْمِيَةً&lt;br /&gt;مُشتَقّةً من ذهابِ العقلِ لا الذّهَبِ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;مُلَقَّبٌ بكَ مَا لُقّبْتَ وَيْكَ بهِ&lt;br /&gt;يا أيّها اللّقَبُ المُلقَى على اللّقَبِ&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;المتنبي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you traced your name, you were fatherless,&lt;br /&gt;so you ventured forth, throwing out decorum --&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on this day you were dubbed &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Golden&lt;/span&gt;*&lt;br /&gt;after the flight from sense (not the substance of the same)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and named, woefully, for that which after you&lt;br /&gt;was called  --  O name cast over name.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*The word for "gold" and "go" are the same in Arabic. Though the link is uncertain some propose it is because gold is a substance that passes from hand to hand -- endless circulation.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-1844269560236218444?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1844269560236218444'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/1844269560236218444'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/05/al-mutanabbi.html' title='Al-Mutanabbi'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-899798360507450036</id><published>2010-04-29T18:45:00.012-04:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T22:32:10.009-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>وبلغيهم سلاما من اخي شجن&lt;br /&gt;                في قلبه من فراق القوم اشجان&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ابن عربي&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Send them this greeting from a grieving kin, whose heart&lt;br /&gt;still reels from the instant he was cleaved from them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ibn Arabi, from his &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;Interpreter of Desires&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-899798360507450036?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/899798360507450036'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/899798360507450036'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/04/send-them-greeting-from-their-grieving.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7115157051591289445</id><published>2010-04-26T18:44:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2010-12-28T16:21:15.935-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mutanabbi'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This is that the leaving&lt;br /&gt;of a lover from his lover&lt;br /&gt;grieving for the going of &lt;br /&gt;the spirit from its body &lt;br /&gt;leaving when the clouds bring &lt;br /&gt;wind that rises then you &lt;br /&gt;beyond the city cannot move&lt;br /&gt;or pass O generous prince from it &lt;br /&gt;onto the white sand &lt;br /&gt;you could call your rest so &lt;br /&gt;you who parted from us one &lt;br /&gt;day do not ever go&lt;br /&gt;_______&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My very liberal translation of an Al Mutanabbi poem.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7115157051591289445?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7115157051591289445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7115157051591289445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/04/this-is-that-leaving-of-lover-from-his.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-7381227291457781275</id><published>2010-04-12T04:25:00.045-04:00</published><updated>2011-06-26T13:23:13.393-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Um</title><content type='html'>There is an M inside my mouth&lt;br /&gt;an Um where my Mother should&lt;br /&gt;be a razor hidden under&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;my tongue where my mouth&lt;br /&gt;opens mimicking the one&lt;br /&gt;who splits me for metal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um me I can’t repeat those&lt;br /&gt;words that move the blade&lt;br /&gt;too close against my M&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or be moved to slip my tongue&lt;br /&gt;against its edge slipping&lt;br /&gt;invisibly into you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-7381227291457781275?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7381227291457781275'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/7381227291457781275'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/04/there-is-mim-inside-my-mouth-um-where.html' title='Um'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-8252331721286613748</id><published>2010-04-10T22:24:00.035-04:00</published><updated>2011-09-04T20:33:36.303-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hallaj'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='translation'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>كفى حزناً أني أناديك دائباً&lt;br /&gt;كأني بعيد أو كأنك غائب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;واطلب منك الفضل من غير رغبة&lt;br /&gt;فلم أر قبلي زاهداً وهو راغب&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s sad enough that I continually call you, bellowing as though&lt;br /&gt;from far away, or as if you were no longer there, while I'm the one&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;pursuing you for your favor devoid of pleasure; I could never see that&lt;br /&gt;it was me who fed your ardor, not allowing you a flavor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Al Hallaj&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-8252331721286613748?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8252331721286613748'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/8252331721286613748'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/04/correspondence.html' title=''/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-5171930543169840641</id><published>2010-03-13T17:40:00.023-05:00</published><updated>2010-04-15T13:07:25.888-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Codes</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;for M.H. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They found sweetness&lt;br /&gt;at the root so called it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;torture Found tekite&lt;br /&gt;figures kept in tact &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp; called them white&lt;br /&gt;They called to not &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;remember Forgot&lt;br /&gt;to find again &amp; found&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;roots resembling nerves &lt;br /&gt;&amp; called them &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;dyed by the ink&lt;br /&gt;of what they found  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;there dictated&lt;br /&gt;'til they were lost&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So called themselves &lt;br /&gt;Preserved &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;in the mouth of each&lt;br /&gt;who repeated it &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;were those Who had&lt;br /&gt;recalled&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-5171930543169840641?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5171930543169840641'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/5171930543169840641'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/03/codes.html' title='Codes'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9699094.post-3627391826476264023</id><published>2010-03-05T04:23:00.020-05:00</published><updated>2010-12-05T22:27:44.602-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Letters</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;for M.H.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From a parted city&lt;br /&gt;I call &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You there&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;someone often&lt;br /&gt;does not arrive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;or loses a stranger&lt;br /&gt;swearing his tongue&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;by the name of one&lt;br /&gt;who called him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so reaches this message&lt;br /&gt;through air&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;only to him&lt;br /&gt;sworn to receive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;so loses a name another letter&lt;br /&gt;to hear from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;another place to know&lt;br /&gt;that it is there&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;not here the message&lt;br /&gt;stretches in the name of&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/9699094-3627391826476264023?l=adamahmed.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3627391826476264023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/9699094/posts/default/3627391826476264023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://adamahmed.blogspot.com/2010/03/from-cleaved-city-i-call-you-there.html' title='Letters'/><author><name>Adam Ahmed</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/15708735281137864185</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='29' src='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-VsKMUUmWRJo/TwvuKxsi4SI/AAAAAAAAAIw/srw0_GQsrtI/s220/brooklynblue.jpg'/></author></entry></feed>
