Poems of Love & Longing by Shaikh Abu-Saaeed Abil-Kheir (10th-Century Sufi Mystic).pdf

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Poems of Love & Longing
Shaikh Abu-Saaeed Abil-Kheir
(10
th
Century Sufi Mystic)
Dedicated to the Beloved Master
Sant Kirpal Singh Ji Maharaj
A person in whose heart love for the Master has been bestowed by God
is really fortunate, because love for the Master is the method by which
we come to love God.
(Sant Kirpal Singh)
santmat-thetruth.de/index.php?option=com_book&book=3886&page=111
Referring to himself as “Nobody, Son of Nobody,” Shaikh Abu-Saaeed Abil-Kheir [also spelled
Abū-Sa'īd Abul-Khayr] expressed the reality that his life had disappeared in the heart of God.
This renowned but lesser-known Sufi mystic of the 10
th
century preceded the great poet Rumi by
over two hundred years on the same path of annihilation in love.
(Vraje Abramian)
During his lifetime, which spanned from 967 to 1049, his fame spread throughout the Islamic
world, even to Spain. He was the first Sufi writer to widely use ordinary love poems as a way to
express and illuminate mysticism, and as such he played a major role in the foundation of
Persian Sufi poetry.
His system is based on a few themes that appear frequently in his words, generally in the form of
simple emotional poems. The main focus of his teachings is liberation from “I”, which he
considered the one and only cause of separation from God and to which he attributed all personal
and social misfortunes.
He believed that the full application of these teachings to one's life requires both divine grace and
the guidance of an experienced Sufi, and is impossible through personal efforts alone. His
picture as portrayed in various Sufi writings is a particularly joyful one of continuous ecstasy.
Other famous Sufis made frequent references to him, a notable example being the Persian Sufi
poet Farid al-Din Attar, who mentions Abil-Kheir as his spiritual guide. Many miracles are
attributed to him in Sufi writings.
At his funeral he requested the following poem.
What sweeter than this in the world!
Friend met friend and the lover joined his Beloved.
That was all sorrow, this is all joy
Those were all words, this is all reality.
(wikipedia.org/wiki/Ab%C5%AB-Sa'%C4%ABd_Abul-Khayr)
-1-
I am the one You created from dust,
a handful of dust moving at Your wish.
You planted this seed,
this growth is obeying that command.
Rise early at dawn, when our storytelling begins.
In the dead of the night, when all other doors are locked,
the door for the lovers to enter opens.
Be wide awake in the dark when lovers
begin fluttering around the Beloved’s window,
like homing pigeons arriving with flaming bodies.
Be an early riser,
seek the Beloved in your silence and solitude.
Do not let go of the One who receives you at the end.
Avoid attachment to all and everyone else.
It is the dark of the early morning, Friend.
All those thirsting after You have their foreheads on the dust at Your gate.
O Beloved source of the Water of Life,
pray order Your wine bearer to water this pile of dust!
-2-
Every dawn I bring my heart to You,
my lamentations are to soften Your heart,
so You grant me the honor of being a beggar at Your gate,
and no one else’s.
You play asleep these long nights and I am missing You.
You play remote and distant. This tossing and turning,
these long hot dry spells and I am missing You.
Who am I?
One fed up with his self, at war with sanity.
One who burnt with jealousy last night
hearing the true lamentations of a truly broken one
at the Beloved’s gate.
Your desires are legion,
while your wealth is carried off through the ten gates.
Spend one night in purity and desirelessness at the Beloved’s gate.
If you aren’t fulfilled, then complain.
-3-
My Beloved,
giver of all needs, and their satisfier too,
pray see to it that I need none but You,
and knock on no door but Yours.
O’ Friend of the fallen, untie this knot!
Only You can.
Have pity on me and this bewildered mind.
O’ Bestower of grace, I have nowhere to go,
do not send me away from Your gate,
O’ Merciful One.
Friend,
I would throw this heart away but it has Your fire brand on it.
Both eyes I would stitch shut if You weren’t sitting in them.
My whole being is nothing but Your abode,
or I would use it as incense at Your door.
Who am I?
One with a fire burning within.
One with all hopes severed,
hoping to gain the steadfastness of a rock
and the sincerity of the flame.
Perhaps then I will deserve to sit
at the feet of the Purified One.

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