A Silly Goofball Pome

From the tongues of children
to the wombs of mothers,
from the eyes of lovers clasping hold
to the smiles of friends:
I find my home.
in the four books,
the 124,000 blessed ones,
the heart of the Seal,
the soul of the lion
the five, the twelve, the forty...
by justice shall ye know me,
in laughter do I find voice;
be still, and know my name is
Love.

A Poem from Kaygusuz Sultan

High above the highest ones, I have seen,
You are the skillful Artisan, Great Allah.
The world reads with words;
You read the syllable, God.

Thou hast created rebellious slaves,
saying, "Let it ever be thus";
You have placed them there.
You have reached the edge, Allah.

You have created a bridge of a hair,
saying "Let the slaves come and pass over."
Rather, let us stand here.
If you are a hero, you pass over it, O God.

Those who are heroes are known
as so-and-so, son of so-and-so.
You have no mother or father:
You look like a bastard child, Allah.

I am Kaygusuz. From the door of the Friend,
From the three hundred thousand cups in a day.
Lift up the curtain from between,
Let us look within, God.