"I have spread my dreams beneath your feet;/
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams...“ W.B. Yeats.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Were a single mote of Thy Face to show itself,
neither dervish cloak nor Christian belt would remain upon
When Thou showest Thy Face to anyone in the
two worlds, he is consumed by fire and left with no business
but Thy heartache.
If Thou shouldst throw off the veil from that
beautiful Face, no trace would remain of the faces of sun and
With Love's wine Thou puttest to sleep those
consumed by fire -- none but Thou is confidant to the