He that conceals his grief finds no remedy for it

He that conceals his grief finds no remedy for it

What impropriety or limit can there be in our grief for a man so
beloved?
[Lat., Quis desiderio read more

What impropriety or limit can there be in our grief for a man so
beloved?
[Lat., Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus
Tam cari capitis?]

My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells read more

My grief lies all within, And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortured soul

FIRE HAS LEFT THE HEARTH
Fire has left the hearth
Nautilus climbed from shell
Perfume flowed from read more

FIRE HAS LEFT THE HEARTH
Fire has left the hearth
Nautilus climbed from shell
Perfume flowed from bottle
Prisoner gone from cell
Butterfly flutterbied cocoon
nor hand restrained by glove
Jesus away from manger
Cage left by Spirit Dove.
Sparklings soared away from wand.
Chick's egg become the bird.
Omkar sung from out the throat
Violin's notes now heard.
Buddhist temple pine cone
tabernacle'd godlet seed
Shattered that it might manifest
thousand forests of fir tree
Eternal snow of mountain top
now nurses meadow flowers.
Shining never held by sun
relentless melts ice towers.
Love has left its
spring the heart
Is now a liquid pond
Host stolen from the chalice
consumed in mouth of God
Starlight abandoned star
a billion years ago
Left that tonight you
might
have its sight
and know
Know Love is forever
no drop of God ever dies
Lover not bound by form of love
God's bodies are not God's souls
(to his wife and children
on the death of Robert S)
(Baba Hari Das: is the author
of love is more powerful than
lover for love is not bound by
form).

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak

Those things that hurt, instruct.

Those things that hurt, instruct.

If our inward griefs were seen written on our brow, how many
would be pitied who are now envied!
read more

If our inward griefs were seen written on our brow, how many
would be pitied who are now envied!
[It., Se a ciascun l'interno affanno
Si leggesse in fronte scritto,
Quanti mai, che invidia fanno,
Ci farebbero pieta!]

Tearless grief bleeds inwardly.

Tearless grief bleeds inwardly.

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak.