death · Kiss · Life · Light · White

Brahma Kamal*

Like a flower which blooms in secret,
hiding her face from the world,
and wilts until the morning,
in absolute silence,
so is the heart of man.

Like a most delicate flower of the moon,
arising and dying unseen,
because any biting look crushes her –
breathing the perfume of high crests,
so is the heart of man.

For You are the moon watching
from behind auspicious clouds,
and all queens of the night
bloom only for You,
Father of sweetness, and of mysteries.

Romanian version

* This poem was inspired by the blog post A bloom of Joy – the mystical Brahma Kamal. Thank you for the wonders you share with us!

Concrete · Gale · Life

Crawl

If we can float above waters,
why do we have to crawl?
If there’s nothing separating us,
why do we have to learn silence?

Why are we born numb,
why are we born deaf?
If You are Life giver,
why are we sunken in death?

If we can gather the universe
in our curious reason,
why do we have no idea
of where we are going, and

where we are coming from?

If we can float above waters,
why do we choose to crawl?
If there’s nothing separating us,
why do we choose to raise walls?

Kiss · Life · White

Our curtain

Our house has no curtains,
hence we are open to solitude.
Our house has no perfume,
it’s not yet carnation’s time to bloom.

We laugh a lot between the walls
of our miraculous home –
it is usually a little cold,
so we hold each other very tight.

You have prepared our home
before you knew I would come,
and there is nothing missing
except the curtain with tufts,

but I guess you’ll arrange it alone.

Faith · Life · Light

Sleepless ones*

The sleepless ones magnify Thee
no more,
they are wearing silence clothes.

Where there was once power
stones alone
remind us of the heavenly hymns.

Yet the walls sing of You
when the moon
softly bathes them in rays.

Not a single candle burns today,
only stars light
the Mass in the roofless cathedral.

The sleepless ones magnify Thee
ashore,
in the land of unbroken promises.

sleepless ones * = monks from the Akoimati order. One of them was always in prayer, in the church of the Monastery of Saint John the Forerunner – Istanbul.

Romanian version

Haiku · Life · Still

The Elephant

to Savatie Bastovoi

I saw an elephant swimming
for the first time,
and suddenly
all miracles seemed possible.

I have been away from You
abruptly – most of my lives,
yet the sun kept on shining
in expectation.

I hear these words
in a language I don’t understand,
yet I presume they speak
of the sunset’s sweetness.

The strain finds no asylum
in my shoulders,
while the stillness of the ocean
veils my salmons in abyssal plains.

I saw an elephant swimming
for the first time,
and all miracles seemed possible,
for the Elephant belongs to You.

Romanian version