Bahá’í World/Volume 15/Verse

The Bahá’í World
Volume 15

II

VERSE

Le Promis

Tu nous avais promis de revenir, Et moi j ’ai cru en ta promesse, Etje t’attends etje te cherche: Tu nous avais promis de revenir.

Tu avais dit: “Je reviendrai" Comme un voleur, la nuit tombée; Ouvre ton coeur et tiens loi prét’ ’.

Et moi j ’ai cru en ta promesse, Etje t’attends etje te cherche.

Tu avais dit: “En ce temps-lz‘i,

La faim,1a guerre et la misére Seront les hétes de la terre;

Les hommes trembleront de peur Et l’angoisse habitera leur coeur”.

Les oiseaux ont quittéle ciel;

Les fleurs des champs 56 sent fanéesv; Nos pauvres coeurs nus, assoifiés, Telancent unvibrant appel:

Il est grand temps que tu reviennes Si tu veux quel’on se souvienne.

Tu nous avais promis de revenir; Moi,je t’attends, moi,je te cherche, Car moi,j’ai cru en ta promesse.

Toi qui nous avais promis:

“Sous ma banniére vous serez unis Et ce sera 1e paradis;

Un seul berger, un seul troupeau, BI 16 loup ami del’agneau”.

Et moi j‘ai cru en ta promesse: Jet’appelais etje te cherchais, Etjamaisje me te voyais.

Mais maintenant,je sais Quetu eslé,

Depuis centans déjé

Et c’etaittoi qui m’attendais.

M. Lafizille (Belgium)

1 Christus 2 Muhammad

785

Bahá’u’lláh

lch bin der‘Weg’!1 Der‘Freund’ bin Ich.2 Ich bin das‘Tor’!a Vielstimmigtént

das ‘Wort’ im Chor!

Kennst du den‘Weg’, und leitet dich

des ‘Freundes’ Hand ? Dann ffirchte nichts; Sic leiten dich

zum LebensfluB,

an einen Steg

kaum haaresbreit

und schéirfer als ein Schwert. Ihn uberquert

im Augenblick

des Reinen Sinn; erreicht das Tor, gewinnt den Blick ins Mittagslicht Bahá’u’lláh.

Helga A/nnedzade/z (Germany)

‘Abdu’l-Bahá

Bouclier de l’Humanilé, Abri pour l’exalté, Joie de Bahá’u’lláh‘.

Citadelle pour l’infortuné, Lumiére de ma pensée, L’Interpréte de Bahá’u’lláh!

Centre du Covenant, Mystére de Dieu, Prunelle des Yeux de Bahá’u’lláh!

Serviteur de Dieu, Honneur pour les yeux, L’Exemple de Bahá’u’lláh!

Amour et respect indescriptibles, De celui qui englobe mon coeur, Et son nom est ‘Abdu’l-Bahá.

Ivre de votre présense, But de mon espérance, Recours é mes soufirances! M . M . H ielscher (S witzerland) 3 Báb

[Page 786]a

786 THEBAHA

Les Martyrs

Aves-vous entendu la douce et bonne Nouvelle del’humanité? C’était en Perse, i] y avait longtemps, Deux prophétes se sont manifestés. Le premier, le Báb, et ses vingt mille martyrs, Ont donné leurs vies pour notre bonheur. Le second, Bahá’u’lláh, emprisonné et banni, Accepta toutes les douleurs pour notre bonheur. Des gens hostiles les traitérent mal. Ces prophétes, qu‘ont—i ls dit et proclamé? Retenez-vous qu’ils sent 165 promis de tous les ages? Des milliers d’années,l’on souhaitait leur venue. Quand ils vinrent, ils furent persécutés et emprisonnés. Lui, le Báb, Annonciateur de la venue du Sauveursupréme, Bahá’u’lláh, s‘était vu fusillé Et du Séjour de la Paix (Baghdad) dans lejardin de Riḍván, _ Bahá’u’lláh s’éleva du milieu des ennemis Et proclama son message. I] disait: La paix del’humanité dépend de son unité. De sa prison d’Akká le Sauveur et l’Educateur Supréme del’humanite’, Nous enseignait et ordonnait toutes les régles. Avez-vous entendu maintenant la douce et bonne Nouvelle? Voyez pour notre paix et notre bonheur, Combien d’hommes se sacrifiérent! Soyons pour notre génération et pour le Royaume d ’Abhá, des martyrs et des disciples En propageant 1a nouvelle de la merveilleuse Foi.

1(0)de Adamou Zaroumeye (Niger)

Bahá’u’lláh

Enfants de Dieu, ouvrez vos yeux!

Plus de nuages ne couvrent les cieux.

Enfants de Dieu, écoutez!

Voyez! L’ona proclamé la Paix.

Ne l’avez-vous pas lue dans la Thora'?

Ce temps n’est-il pas dit dans la Bible qu’il sera ? Quant 2‘1 vous ceux du Coran,

Annoncé, n’est-il pas parles Iméms ?

Enfants de Dieu, l‘heure est venue, Soyez de ceux qui l’ont déjé reconnu. Enfants dc Dieu, c‘est votre chance Soyez de ceux qui pensent.

Dieul’avait promis 2‘1 Abraham,

Cela ne bouleverse-t~ils pas votre éme ’? Enfants de Dieu, faites attention! Bouleversée en est la création.

Y. Olivan‘ (Canada)

1 WORLD E] Siglo Divino

. . .Para que Iodos (Iiganque el S iglo X X es el Siglo a'e [as luces, que el Siglo XX es el Siglo (1'? la Paz Universal. (‘Abdu’l-Bahá)

Siglo Veinle de luces! te llamarém entonces los hombres de un future lejanoen su cantar; Siglo de ciencias y artes en que guerras cesaron y se escuché Ia dulce melodia de la paz.

Siglo Veinte! tu gloria seré imperecedera, vivirzis en las memes toda unaeternidad; bajo una sola, grande y Divina bandera, marcharé hacia adelante toda la humanidad.

Siglo Veinte grandioso en que murieron guerras y la gloria Divina iluminé la tierra.

Te cantarén de entonces nuestras generaciones, uniendo con sus voces todos sus corazones.

En tus almas tranquilas ya no habrén més tinieblas, pueslas brisasDivinas disiparén las nieblas.

Los cardos serz’m rosas, las hierbas margaritas, se aspiraré un ambiente de fraganciaexquisita.

Y ha dc cumplirse entonces Ia amigua profecia, de apartar de los pueblos las sombras de la guerra; y viviendo felices éspid, loboy oveja, “como lo es enel cielo asi serz'l en la tierra."

Alberto Carbo Medina (Ecuador)

Die Menschheit

Unendlich groB ist noch das Leid, das sich die Menschheit selber schafft. Durch Kriege, Machtkampf, HaB und Strait vernichtet stiindig sie die Kraft, die ihr zu bess’rem Tun gegeben. Sie muB erwachen von dem Wahn, daB von Gewalt die Welt kann leben, wie ihr die Micht’gen angetan.

[Page 787]VERSE

Der Mensch als géttlich hoher Funken, der aus dem Staube angefacht, und schon so oft zurfickgesunken, ist doch als Schépfungsziel gedacht! Wie eine Schépfung nur kann sein, im Universum eine Macht, ist auch die Menschheit nur allein als Einheit dieser Welt gedacht.

Aus der Vielfalt, aus dem Leben wachse groB der Glaubensgeist, daB der Wille und das Streben nach der Einheit Liebe heiBt! Neuer Streit bedeutet Ende, neuer Geist bringt Stfick fiir Stuck der Welt die groBe Zeitenwende, ihr Gerechtigkeit und Glfick!

Bernhard Notz (Germany)

‘Abdu’l-Bahá

Als Er von uns geschieden, Gottes Wort, das neue Menschen schafit und neue Zeiten, weit klafite da verwaistes Hier zum Dort. So rief Er Dich, um unseren Weg zu leiten.

Dein Wesen ist dem Seinen so verméihlt

als mildes Licht von Seinem ewigen Glanze, dass Du, der Meister, von Ihm auserwéhlt, ein Weiser warst filr alle, fijr das Ganze,

Wie wéir’ die Welt geworden ohne Dich ?

787

Si rivelal’arcano:

era unmomento . ..

esser vissuta nell’infinito, e 1161 miosilenzio

un uragano

una tempesta di speranze un battito d’ala . ..

Mi giunge il ritmo della morte in una melodia dolcissima. Avevo dedicate

la mia innocenza all’amore. Neve grandine gelo

tanto flagello

tutto dissoltol’esistere, lugubre tutto ogni suono un af‘fanno,

ogni musica una spada. Avevo paura della bellezza chiudevo gli occhi

per non vedere, non sentire, fuggivol’umanité.

Senza speranza!

Il Vate sublime

dona la certezza

Che apparteniamo all‘amore per sempre.

Maria Bermni (Vulcania), Italy

from Ti Mandt'rt‘) 1m sogno, come la rugiada, pp. 113—115. Reprinted by permission.

Flightl

Du lebst in uns, Du bist uns nie entschwunden. Dein V0rbi1d,menschvollendet, kéniglich, ist heili g unserem Innersten verbunden.

As sky to the hawk’s wing be 0 Life, for me! Space yielding space and height compelling height, To poise and free The ardor of my flight. Give me the sky Ofthe hawk’swing, Life! And does a voice reply:

_ ‘ . . Tothehawk’swing...tothehawk‘swing, Wne danken w1r, dle w1rvon Dank beschwert, Skv.

erffillt, erhoben und emporgerissen ?O Freunde, lasst uns Seiner Liebe wert das Leben leben, das wir von Ihm wissen!

Ade/hert Miilschlegel (Germany)

An Deinem Beispiel ringen wir uns frei. Von Deinen Lippen trinken wir die Lehren. Durch Deine Liebe und durch Dein Verzeih erahnen wir des Himmels reine Sphéiren.

Horace Holley

The Nine—pointed Starl

Stable stars, variable starshydrogen-into-helium

Ti manderé un segno, come 1a rugiada. . . fusions, radiations, spectral fires.

Mentre leggo Bahá’u’lláh dalla segreta

anima dell’invisibile arrivano i flutti dell’eterno. El’anima si abbandona

a1 suo sogno infinito.

Sento che tocca il mio essere in un accordo

And the Nine-pointed Star‘ sun star in the constellation Ofthe nuclear will;

fixed star whose radiance filtering down to us lights mind and spirit, signals futurelight. Robert Hayden

comearmonie traessi da un sogno.

[Page 788]1,;

788 THEBAHA [WORLD

Rebirth (The night I became a Bahá’í)

It was hard to die, slowly, in Salisbury Cathedral, My faith pouring out ofmy soul in tears,

But, strangely, much harder in sweet Caesarea, Umbilicallystrangled by torturing fears,

To struggle and wrench from my womb ofa prison And reach for the Sun of the Glorious years.

I died among dozens ofwandering people Admiring the spire orjust worshipping stone. My life trickled slowly, no watchers stood vigil, 1died as they left me, unwanted, alone.

I cannot return to the glory ofliving

Unaided, unloved, with no guide ofmy own.

(The next day) As tears, Flowing down the deathly cheek of morning, Unchecked, unstaunched, The sweet pure rain of God’s forgiving grace Fal ls freely, Cleansing the guilty mind, Blessing the struggling, new-born soul, Healing and annealing The scars ofterror-stricken night

No more alone. Beside me on Fort Regent’s heights

The lover ofmy soul,

My friend, my brother,

Who plucked me, with God’s hand From out thesilvery metal bird Flyingabove the endless cloud That hid the earth

And buried all the errors ofmy past.

Together, with God’s world around,

We stand and stare,

Engulfed in dazzling radiance, silver streaked.

A mist ofsilver and a sea ofmist,

Asilver sun, a bright translucent sea,

Glory around us and within.

Alone and yet as one we stand together

Poised against the wind

Like sea—gulls gliding as they sail upon the air.

Our souls, like gulls go sliding on the surface of the deep

Back to the God they serve,

His loving gift returned into Hiscare.

And all the while, the tear-stained earth Soaks up the Holy tears And pretty painted homes, And gently rocking boats, The new-washed walls, The roofs and roads and cars, The jewel-laden leaves And daisies at our feet Reflect His glory. Mary Connell (England)

Glimpses of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá

Adapted from the Diary afJuliet Thompson by Roger White

“No word of mine would suffice to express how instantly the revelation of‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s hopes, expectations and purpose . . . electrified the minds and hearts of those who were privileged to hear Him, who were made the recipients of His inestimable blessings . . . I can never hope to interpret adequately the feelings that surged within those heroic hearts as they sat at their Master’s feet . . . I can never pay sufficient tribute to that spirit of unyielding determination which the impact of a magnetic personality and the spell of a mighty utterance kindled in the entire company of those returning pilgrims, these consecrated heralds of the Covenant of God . . .’ ’ (Shoghi Effendi)

‘AKKA’: July, 1909

We drive along a wide white beach.

Sea waves curl about our carriage wheels, Camels approach on the sand,

cloaked Bedouins attending.

Palm trees in a long, longline

and in the distance domes and flat roofs, dazzling white.

Walls.

Walls within walls.

Menacing walls.

Tall,prison-1ike, chalk—white houses, leaning together, rising toward a rift ofsky, slits of barred windows set here and there in their forbidding fronts.

Streets so narrow that our wheels

graze buildings on either side streets sometimes bridged by houses

meeting in an arch at their second stories. Pervading us,

a sense of the divinejoy toward which we travel, here in the Holy City, the New Jerusalem.

Before us, suddenly, a broad expanse: a garden,

the seawall,

the sea,

and then the Master’s door.

Too soon we have arrived,

too suddenly, and unprepared.

[Page 789]VERSE

He bursts upon us like the sun with Hisjoyous greeting: Welcome! Welcome! His effulgence strikes me blind! Are you well .7 A re you happy .7 I cannot speak.

He takes my hand in Hisin His so mysterious handdelicately-made, steely-strong, currents oflife streaming from it: Yourlzeart, yourspirit, speak to Me. Iliear. Iknow. Do not think yourservices are unknown to Me. I/zave seen. I have been with you. Iknow them all. For these you are accepted in the K ingdom. My services I Theirpitiful smallness! And my lack oflove! Pierced by shame I cry: “Forgive my failures !’ ’ Be sure Ofthis. Be sure aft/u's.

My knees yield ; my heart draws me down to His feet.

Later, my eyes upon His white-robed Figure,

I listen as He dictates Tablets,

see Him pace about a room grown suddenly too small.

A force born of the energy of God restless, uncontainable spills fromHim.

The earth cannot contain Him,

nor yet the universe.

When He pauses by the window I sense His spirit,

free as the Essence Itself,

brooding over regions far distant,

looking deep into hearts

at the uttermost ends of the earth,

consoling their secret sorrows,

answering the whispers of far-ofl‘minds.

Often in His leonine pacing

He gives me a long, grave glance.

And once He smiles at me.

He smiles at me!

THONON—LES-BAINS, LAKEGENE VA: August, 1911

A great white hote1,setamid Oleander, flanked by mountains overhung with clouds. Beyond the green terrace and marble balustrade, thelake.

In the halls and through the grounds

the artificial, dull-eyed people

stroll and chatter.

Silently,

majestically,

unrecognized but not unfelt,

He passes among them,

the cream robe billowing,

789

light glinting in Hissilver hair.

The metallic voices break off.

The shadowed eyes lift and follow, lighted for a moment with wonder. His presence is an affirmation. stirring them to recall their lost vision ofa higher world and their own beauty. The eloquent assertion oinssilence‘. His magnetic power!

His holy sweetness!

At a country inn I see Him

in a half-circle ofchildren,

girdled with children, festooned with them, waist-deep in children with violets to sell, the smal l ones, themselves a bouquet, pressing about Him, waving the purpleclusters, their faces raised with grave astonishment, His own a benediction as He bends

to buy their blooms, buy all their blooms, drawing from His pocket handfuls offrancs, giving to each child bountifully.

They beg for more.

“Don’t let them impose!”

At the edge of the swaying crescent,

a newcomer, the smallest,

stares up in awe,

timid as a fawn:

To this little one Iliave notgiven. . .

And the Master gave.

On the road back, suddenly, spectacularly, a waterfall,

rolling from a great height.

scattering diamonds as it froths down a black precipice.

Full of excitement He hurries forward, alone, to sit insilence at the very edge,

the swirling water far below.

I see Himinprofile,

kingly against the cascade,

intense rapture on His upturned face,

and my tears flow.

Afteratime,smi1ing:

If I come to America, will you invite Me to see such waterfalls .7

I promise Niagara!

“But surely, my Lord,

Your coming to America does not depend upon my invitation!”

My invitation to America willbe the unity Oftlze believers!

A heavenly day ofcharming informality, taking tea,

He talking gaily or tenderly,

takinglittle notice ofme.

But in spite of this I glimpse something vaster than before,

feel a new awareness of His unearthly power, His divine sweetness.

[Page 790]790 THE Bahá’í WORLD

Coming upon Him as He stands talking with a friend,

the sweetness of His love,

that celestialradiance,

again bring tears:

If He never gave me so much as a word,

if He never glanced my way,

just to see that sweetness shining before me,

I would follow Him on my knees,

crawling behind Him in the dust forever!

NEW YORK: Aprilll, 1912

April 11th! Oh day ofdays!

I awaken before daybreak with a singing heart, the moon’s waning sliver

framed low in my windowpane‘

I hasten to the pier.

The morning is crystal clear, sparkling.

I have a sense of its being Easter——of lilies, a1mostseen,blooming at my feet.

A mist settles over the harbour but at last,

at last, I see a phantom ship,

an epoch-making ship,

comingcloser, closer, ever more substantial, tillit swims into thelight, a solid thing.

He sends His love and asks us to dispersewe are all to meet at four.

Obedience is overruled by love: three of us conceal ourselves and wait.

Stepping into the limousine,

the Master turns and smiles at us!

Three frozen statues dissolve in that bestowal, no love-born child-prank ever so rewarded. Oh the coming of that Presence!

The mighty commotion of it !

The hearts almost suffocate withjoy and the eyes burn with tears at the stir of that step!

Our skyscrapers had delighted Him:

The Minarets of the West! What divine irony!

NE W YORK: April 19

He shines in white and ivory, His face alighted lamp illumining the Bowery Mission:

Tonight I am very happ y

for I have come here to meet M y friends.

I consider you My relatives, My companions, and I am your comrade . . . 1

A sodden and grimy procession

streams down the aisle,

perhaps three hundred men in single filederelicts, failures, broken forms, blurred facesand here ‘The Servant’ receiving each outcast

as His beloved child.

1 Promulgation of UniversalPeaee, vol. I, p. 30.

Into each palm, as He clasps it,

He presses His little gift ofsilverjust a symbol and the price ofa bed. None is shelterless this night

and many find a shelter in His heart; Isee it in their faces,

and in His face bent to theirs.

We drive up Broadway, aglitter withelectric signs. He speaks ofthem, smiling, much amused.

“It is marvelous to be driving

through all thislight

by the side of the Light oflights.”

This is only the beginning. We will

be together in all the worlds of God.

You cannot realize here what that means. You cannot imagine it. You can form

no conception here in this elemental worldofwhat it is to be with Me in

the Eternal Worlds.

NEW YORK: June5

I am to paint His portrait!

Surprise, dismay, fear,joy, gratitude, flood me. He sits before mein a dark corner,

His black ‘aba melting into the background.

I quail.

I want you to paint My ser vitude to God.

Only the Holy Spirit could do so, no human hand. “Pray for me, or I am lost. I implore You, inspire me!”

1 willpray, ahdas you are doing this only for the sake of God, you willbe inspired.

Fear falls away.

It is as though another sees through my eyes, works through my hand.

Rapture takes possession of me.

My hand is directed in a sort offurious precision. The points, the planes in that matchless face

are so clear

my hand cannot keep pace with the clarity

of my vision.

Freely, in ecstasy, I paint as I never have before. In halfan hour the foundation is perfect.

Once, bidding Him rest, I find I cannot paintwhat I see is too sacred, too formidable.

He sits stillas a statue, eyes closed,

infinite peace on that chiseled face,

a God-like calm and grandeur in His erect head. Suddenly, with a great flash, likelightning,

He opens His eyes.

The room seems to rock

like a storm-tossed ship

in the power released!

[Page 791]WESTENGLEWOOD: June 29

Aluminescent summer day green countryside, and He our host.

The Unity Feast has ended and the darkness settles in, gently smudging the outline

of the mighty trees.

Many of uslinger, unable to wrench ourselves away.

Cricket songs—the scent of grass a breathless expectancy in the soft, warm air. He sits in a chair on the top step of the porch, some of us surrounding Him.

Below, dotting the lawn, on either side of the path,

sit others, thelight summer skirts of the women spread out on the grass,

lighted tapers in their hands.

In the dark, in their filmy dresses,

they become great pale moths,

and the burning tips of the tapers,

flickering fireflies.

Knowing our thirst, He speaks to us again, words of consuming tenderness.

Rising, He starts down the path, still talking, passing between the weightless, dim figures with their 1 i ghted candles,

talking, still talking, till He reaches the road. He turns and we no longer see Him.

Even then His words float back to us, theliquid Persian,

and the beautiful, quivering translation,

the sound and the echo hovering and drifting, an exquisite note almost unbearably held:

Peace be with you. I will pray for you.

Oh that voice that speaks out of His invisibility, when He has passed beyond our sight!

May I always remember.

May I always remember and hear that voice!

NE W YORK: December 5

The last morning.

I stand at His door, my brimming eyes fastened upon that divine Figure

as He moves about the room.

Taking my hand, He consoles me:

Remember, I am with you always.

Bahá’u’lláh will be with you always. . .

And then the ship, and His last spoken message, the Master pacing the crowded cabin

filled with flowers

and broken-hearted friends:

. . . your efforts must be lofty.

Exert yourselves with heart and soul so that perchance through your efl'orts the light of uni versal peace may

shine . . . that all men may become

VERSE 791

as onefamily. . . It is My hope that you may become successfill in this high calling, so that like brilliant lamps you may cost light upon this world of humani t y and quicken and sti r the bad y ofexistence like unto aspirit ofltfe.

This is eternalglory,

This is everlastingfelicity.

This is immortal life.

This is heaven] y attainment.

This is being created in the image andlikeness of God. . .1

Isit opposite Him at a little distance,

weeping quietly.

At each parting I was left with the hope of another meeting, and now my question must be answered or I shall have no peace.

“Will I see You again, my Lord ?”

This is my hope.

“But stillYou don’t tell me, my Lord. Not knowing, I feel hopeless.”

You must notfeel hopeless.

Only that. That is all He said to me.

It is death to leave the ship.

I remain on the pier, in the grey light, with the impervious, stolid pigeons and the anguished gulls.

Tears blur my eyes.

Through them I see the Master

in the midst of the throng.

waving a patient hand to us.

It waves and wavesthat beautiful patient handtill the Figure is lost to sight.

December 9, 1956 IN MEMORIAM

DEPLORE LOSS MUCH LOVED GREATLY ADMIRED JULIET THOMPSON OUTSTANDING EXEMPLARY HANDMAID ABDULBAHA. OVER HALF CENTURY RECORD MANIFOLD MERITORIOUS SERVICES EMBRACING CONCLUDING YEARS HEROIC OPENING DECADES FORMATIVE AGE BAHAI DISPENSATION WON HER ENVIABLE POSITION GLORIOUS COMPANY TRIUMPHANT DISCIPLES BELOVED MASTER ABHA KINGDOM; ADVISE HOLD MEMORIAL GATHERING MASHRIQULADHKAR PAY BEFI'I'I'ING TRIBUTE IMPERISHABLE MEMORY ONE SO WHOLLY CONSECRATED FAITH BAHAULLAH FIRED SUCH CONSUMING DEVOTION CENTRE HIS COVENANT. SHOGHI

The Bahá’í World, vol. Xlll, p. 862.

I Promulgation of UniversaIPeace,vol, II. pp. 465—7.

[Page 792]792

(Those named are outstanding Bahá’ís, now deceased, some designated as martyrs. The accolades, for

THE Bahá’í WORLD A Pilgrim’s Song

Sweetest to my ears is the Name of my Lord

when I myselfspeak it ;

My Lord has many names, and one is greatest;

But for my heart’s complaint I would take singing scissors to it and spellout with my life Ya' Bahd’u‘l—Abhd.

Within my forehead is a silver sliver that addresses the Qiblih; When I press my head on the step before my Lord the pain is fierce but the heat ofmy longing there soon melts and softens it ;

My Lord is merciful: this shaft turns sweet as honey

and runs into my eyes.

Then I say, as bidden,“O Thou Glory of the All-Glorious l”

for it is the most this tongue could attain to.

Methinks these holy syllables pain the ether with their presence

and we all whisper them, as bidden, in our hearts where they are hidden.

His raven locks have brushed my cheek in a dream; it turned scarlet

and I woke in a fever searching my couch for the silver comb

but] found it not, and Heleft to visit otherlovers,

and when I returned to my dreams, they were full of that which would perish.

Once, in longing, [approached the Sacred Threshold and,

without uttering my Lord’s Name, thrust my arm through the scented veil; it came back scorched and shrivelled, and I lost my reason

and since that vision I have not used it except to hold this pen.

If He wills, will] take leave ofselfto take up again the search; I am athirst, and though fast rivers run close I would drink only from Bahá’s cup.

One drop of His nectar would suffice me for an eternity,

but one drop ofmy blood shed in His path would do the same.

. . . thus the Master ofrhe House hall: appeared within H is home.

Come out into a field oflight and snow and the sky is the Shrine’s dome; and the patterns of the earth make a perfect and wond rously ancient carpet on which we are all kneeling at the Threshold.

I want to repeat over and over my Lord‘s Names

and let them have their effect upon my soul;

Iwant to repeat to all around me His Most Great Name,

and watch the world shatterlike glass before the trumpet blast.

Valerie Berteig (C anada)

Lines from a Battlefield

Ponder awhile. Has! than ever heard thatfriend and jbe Should abide in one heart .7 Cast out then the stranger, that the Friend may enter H is home . . . Bahá’u’lláh, The Hidden Words, No. 26, from the Persian.

“The Hidden Words is a love-song. It has for its background the romance of all the agesthe Love of God and Man, of the Creator and His creatures . . . Alas! in the proud illusion of his separateness, man has forgotten whence he came, and what he is, and whither he moves. He has turned away from his True Beloved and given his heart to a stranger and an enemy . . . For man, by his constitution, has an ego, a lower selfwithin . . . The quelling of this ego. . . is indeed the essential task that confronts the aspiring soul

George Tawnshem]

the most part, are taken from their obituaries.)

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Come, let me féte you, beloved foe,

for I tire of this old-born war.

It would shorten did I not so ruinously adore

each endearing stratagem your consummate cunning devises; your enamouring intransigence enchants me,

your very implacability, an aphrodisiac.

In this moment when fatigue calls truce

let me say it: IfI loved you less

I should not plot your end

as we embrace.

Clasped to your bosom 1 gauge it for my blade’s dark use. Beware the honey posset and my preferred kiss! Caressing your unloosed hair I plait a noose

and with a traitor’s hand I stroke your face.

May it be said I loved my enemy

but sought the Friend.

In these graceless hours when faith strains feebly against the unbelieving night I am alienated from angels and celestial concerns, unmoved by the testimony of flowers. Locked in a grief so ancient as to have no name, in this dimming light, even magnificence menaces, estranging me from excellence, trivializing my pitiable trophies—minor virtues garnered in a sweeter timemy nurtured imperfections not so epically egregious as to embarass the seraphim rucfully yawning at their mention; nor will my shame, as once I thought, topple the cities, arrest the sun’s climb. What assault on heaven guarantees attention? Inured to the banality of pain and the ordinariness of suffering (sanctified or plain!) it is joy that is remembered. Ah well, not every day can witness an anabasis and I, a sorry soldier, camp in ruins, speak from weariness of battle far prolonged. From shining names on scattered tombs lfashiona paean ; to vanquish dread, invoke the victors: Breakwell/Brittingham/Blomfield/Benke/Bolles/Baker/Barney/Bailey/ Backwell/Bourgeois/Bosch/ (Do I presume ? lswear a radiant rank appears, assuring as sunlight, familiar as bread!) Dunn/Dole/Dodge/ sterling Esslemont! rare Wilhelm! unrivalled Townshend ofthesilver pen! imbiber of the scarlet cup, Badi‘! shield of the Cause, Samandari! brilliant Keith! immortal Lua ! steadfast Thornton! courageous Marion! incomparable Martha ! constant Juliet! noble Louis of the golden heart! selfless Sutherland! Durante Viera, ebony prince! Johanna Schubarth!

Conquerors ofcontinents, movers of hearts, they are a legion stretchi ng to horizon’s end, champions of the Peerless, the darlings of the Friend.

A beachhead beckons. I read auguries oftriumph in my campfire’s dwind] ing plumes. Remove the garland, still the lyre, my love. It is dawn: the engagement resumes. Roger White