Bahá’í World/Volume 9/Verse

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[Page 929]

II

VERSE

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[Page 931]II VERSE

A SONG OF THE DAWN

Joy is from Eternity!

Joy is more ancient than Time—vast as infinitude!

Out of joy doth all proceed, and in the arms of joy is creation upheld!

Joy is in the Beginning, Joy is before the founding of the worlds!

Joy is the mighty, the impregnable, the everlasting.

Joy is the life and light of all; and nought exists that is not filled With the breath of joy.

The voice of joy breaks forth on every hand in Water, in Wind, in rustling leaf and singing bird; and listening night lays her hand upon the earth’s wild heart to hear the universal chant of joy float from the fiery stars. ‘

O God, O God, the dawn of joy is broken!

The flood gates of light are open, and joy descends in torrents on the earth.

The frosts of life melt in the sunshine of Thy joy. Thy kiss of joy has touched all, sweetened all!

Thy joy triumphant conquers the heart of man, and in the depth of our being joy awakes.

There is no room for sadness, for doubt. Within, without, joy fills all space, all time, all thought.

The prophet’s voice, the lover’s heart, proclaim the victory of joy. Far and wide, in every clime, in every land, the soul of man Wakens to join at last that triumph song of praise which for long ages Truth unheard of men, has sung to God in solitude.

—GEORGE TOWNSHEND.

WAR: A LANDSCAPE OF THE SOUL

HORACE HOLLEY

This, in the cryptic shadows of a vine

By moonlight carved on a forsaken wall I read, and marveled.

It was nothing more

Than shadows sprawling a forsaken wall In moonlight and in silence.

Nothing more . . .

"The lamp has flickered into darkness. Now ‘

The chosen book I held beneath the lamp That voyaged me to many shores of peace Drops like a loosened plummet,

Deep on deep.

Each figured tapestry that made the room Mirror against a flattering mystery

Fades to a desert’s worn and barren gray, An old mirage

I painted to be true.

The room is all unwound,

An empty spaol.

Now in the shuddering night the night I am Goes forth from me at last,

And all is dark Hope, memory, will .And I go forth alone,

If darkness from itself may turn at last.

"But I beneath the ocean of this night

Sink down,

With all the dreams that I let go.

Above me voyages,

Lone deaths away,

A moon that makes strange harbor in the dark;

And I dissolve

To drops within the sea.

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[Page 932]932

“The summer was a lie

Revealed in snow.

All eyeballs of the world turn blankly up,

All feet are muffled,

And the odorous flower I hold ‘within my hand,

An icy stone.

Intolerable sameness of all lies!

White silent glitter fastening on the world!

My dragging footsteps mark themselves along,

Quick furtive thieves

Of their own hurried fear.

Yet,

Close where madness screams

Against the snow

A blackness of strange figures,

Sprawling lines

Flung like a child’s haphazard alphabet

And spelling nothing Files of fighters dead.

Sink down among them,

Spread the fingers wide;

Hide so the white, implacable dumb snow.

”The essence of this landscape is Its sound.

"Like great bowls overflowing,

Bowls that filled

Slow drop by drop

To solemn overflow

Through time and times appointed;

Dripping down

A sea of hollow sound and driven Wind,

_Thc tapestry of snow and hanging cold

Rolls up with melting of a fear

Fulfilled.

Heart’s winter was a lie

That love betrays.

Each spattering drop d‘rips down

A sea of sound;

The world of barren snow that was our heart

Sweeps down like mountains

Melting to the sea.

"Old stranded ships

That slip on inland tide,

We float upon

Ourselves,

Swing on and on

Across a bright, horizonless mild sea

THE Bahá’í WORLD

To harbors of new hope,

Exiles’ return

And emigrants from terrors more than kings.

(And every tear

From hardened hearts that mourn

Rolls down a bright, horizonlcss mild sea

With dipping ships

And harbors of new hope.)

“The sun of this glad climate shines with God.”

Forsaken Vine on a forsaken wall, Your sprawling leaves in moonlig/Jl caruvd me so A speech of cryptic shadows, nothing more. The broken heart recalls: “I am the Vine. . . . ”

”THE DAY OF GOD”

uIn that day, the limbs of the five continents shall tremble.” —BAHA’U’LLAH.

There is a Power that rules the tide of stars.

And guides their foam across the deep of space.

There is a power that breaks man’s puny bars

Of time and hate, and turns a planet’s face

Into a mirror for the Sun of Truth!

,But when that Light selects its chosen ray

The people tremble at the dawning day! There is a Power brings nations to their knees And scatters men like sand, before a breeze Of everlasting Justice, that repeals Mercy, whose outraged form lies prone on earthour planet stands at this transcendent hour Stemming the Whirlwind, to bring forth love’s flOWel‘. —BEATRICE IRWIN.

TO_ PRAY

0 Mount Carmel, chiseled of dark turquoise, Holding a Sacred portal to the sun, Oft up thy lovely terraced garden path Climb many pilgrim feet, When day is done I To Pray.

[Page 933]VERSE

They kneel, they bow in reverence in that Shrine, Lovingly the sacred threshold kiss. Lo! There shines the spirit of the Master, blest, With hope, compassion, bliss for those who go To Pray.

Like foggy day their troubles disappear, And sorrow fades as mist before the sun. Their hearts gain peace and radiance divine When souls unite in meeting with That One To Pray.

The world now eateth lotus leaves and sleepeth. The Golden Dawn is here! 0 we beseech The pilgrims who in prayer have met our Lord To rise, to wake the world and then to teach Others to Pray! —RUHANIYYIH RUTH MOFFETT. \Vritten on Mount Carmel in November, 1927.

ON CARMEL’S AGED SLOPES

WILLIAM KENNETH CHRISTIAN _

On Carmel’s aged slopes let Him be laid to rest. And let the people see the simple tomb And let the people weep. There is a time for sorrow, There is a time for tribute that does wrench the heart, There is a time for eulogy, for words so beautiful: Let them be spoken!

He had known the time was near, He had blessed the wedding of a servant in His house,

He had given to the poor the Friday aims, in each hand a coin He placed, to each one He spoke some cheer.

And- then He rested in the garden,

For the time was near

And the evening close at hand.

Weary body now at rest, The long life ended, the life of servitude.

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The One Who made humility a priceless crown, The One Who brought the east and west about a festive board, The One Who made of love a stirring call, a spaik of life for faded embers, a badge of honor in a world of fear.

It is now the quiet time.

The jeering throngs forgotten,

The weary miles of exile fade,

The man who sought to crucify,

The betrayers and the mockers are now nameless ones,

The prison has become a holy place.

See the people gather—hundreds, thousands,

Rich, poor, Gentile, Jew, Muslim, Parsee, European, American,

General official, mullé, priest, man and woman of the streets.

Hear them speak:

"Whom are ye bewailing?

Is it he who but yesterday was great in his life

And is today in his death greater still?”

“Weep one hour for the sake of him

Who, for well nigh eighty years,

Hath wept for you.”

uW'oe unto the poor,

For 10! goodness had departed from them,

Woe unto the orphans,

For their loving father is no more with them!”

You walked the chosen highway,

You taught the people, lived the life,

Crossed the continents and seas,

Planted the ensign of the Father in the east and west, .

And laid the great foundation stone

For the centuries still to come.

Let the throng walk up the Winding road.

Let the thousands bear aloft the wooden box.

On Carmel’s aged slopes let Him be laid to rest.

And let the people weep.

There is a time for sorrow.

This poem was written in 1941 for a Bahá’í commemoration of the Ascension of ‘Abdu’i-Bnhfi, November 28, 1921.

[Page 934]934

A BABI MOTHER

SYDNEY SPRAGUE

The story is told of a Persian mother in the early days of Bábi martyrdoms whose son was taken out by the enemy niob and slain; his head was cut off and thrown to the mother. She picked it up and threw it

back with these words—What we Bábis

give to God, we do not take back.

Alone, within, she stood; the crowd without,

With horrid, taunting jeer and mocking shout,

Were making out of death a ghastly feast As human blood is banquet for the beast.

She knew, alas too well, who was their Prey In one brief hour they had snatched away

From out her arms her own, her well beloved.

Ah! for this crime .was Heaven itself not moved!

Why should her son, a tree of strength and truth,

Be struck down in the beauty of his youth?

Why should the Wicked triumph o’er the good?

The lamb be given to the wolves for food!

Yet often he to her this warning gave "Know thou, man cannot soul and body save.

My soul I give to God. If others lust

For Bábi blood, then bravely die, I must.”

The mother trembled, strength came to her heart "O God,” she prayed, "grant unto me a part

Of this day’s sacrifice to Thee. I know

That I so weak can little do to show

My love for Thee—yet willingly I give

My all to Thee—now grant me strength to live.”

So from the altar of that mother’s love

Like incense rose a martyr’s soul above.

Just then the crowd drew near, with hideous yell

Flung something through the windowthere it fell

Close to her feet—she gazed at it with dread

And saw in shapeless mass her loved one’s

head.

THE BAHA’I

WORLD

Then by God's strength she took the head so dear, A prayer breathed o’er it, kissed it With a tear, Back to the bloodhounds hurled it in her might,

E’en their base souls were troubled at that sight.

Triumphant rang her voice, though from the rack,

"That which to God we give, we take not back!”

VIRTUOSO (To BAHA’U’LLAH)

REGINALD KING

Myself is set atune

To your thoughts, words, desires, _ As a harp, with strings aquiver,

Trembles to vibrate

Into a thousand notes of music.

Life is a vast, high raftered room In which the harp stood silent Through the years, until

You came and touched it It responded, recognizing

The Master Musician Who understood.

TEMPLE BY THE LAKE

Bahá’í Temple, domed from gray to White, Is tipped with folded wings, all angelwise, Symbolic of the peace of prayer that lies In sanctuaries, be it day or night. How intricately lovely to our sight, Few things more exquisite beneath the skiesA symphony to rest one’s weary eyes Or fill a heavy heart with quick delight. Nonagonal, its delicate design, With infinite detail of wonder, shows Devotion from a people at a shrine, Whatever one’s belief, religion grows When great harmonic beauty looms divine; Then blessing from God’s heaven overflows.

—CLARA EDMUNDS—HEMINGWAY.

(Reprinted from the Chicago Tribune with permission from the editor.)

[Page 935]VERSE

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

VIRGINIA MORAN EVANS

Lord God Who madest me One with each Wind that blows, One with each swaying tree, One With each rain-bowed rose:

Kind God Who drew my form From out the pregnant clay,

Kith Of the wildest storm, Kin of ,the mildest day:

Strong God Who cast my soul Into this fragile shell,

Into this earthly bowl, This paradise—this hell:

My thanks for the right at last To stand in Thy sight and be

One With the deathless past, One With eternity!

IN THE OCEAN OF THY LOVE

MARY A. MCCLENNEN

In the ocean of Thy love, 0 Lord, my adored One,

I am cradled tonight. Thy love contains me.

I am helpless, held in the winged waves of

Thy love.

Oh let me never be washed to the shores of dry sand!

Oh let me never feel the weight of my body again!

Thy bliss has overcome me—My whole is given over to Thee.

No limbs have I to hate or to desire or to possess with,

But am held in the depths of Thy waters,

Moved by Thy will.

In the ocean of Thy love, Oh Lord, my adored One,

I am cradled tonight.

Tomorrow on the dry sands, far from Thy loving Name

I may stand and long With an aching breast

To reach Thee,

To hurl myself into the midmost heart of Thy Bounty!

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ON HEARING THE BAHA’I MESSAGE PREBL.E THALE

Because

There is. no peace

Other than that

Which comes from Within, From the inexhaustible wells Of the spirit From our too-little recognized, Acknowledged, utilized, Heritage of eons;

Because

You have helped increase

My understanding

Of the joyous effects of discipline Radiantly acquiesced in,

In the soul’s traverse

Of the infinite My praise be to God, 0 beloved friend, That you have shown me the opened door To peace Without end.

LORD, ANSWER ME!

SILVIA MARGOLIS

My God! I know wherefore these lips of mine

Were touched and wakened with Thy love divine;

Wherefore was pressed into my hand this Sword

That glitters With Thy Wrath, I know my Lord;

And I shall bear and brandish it until

My heart doth fail With doing, Lord, Thy Will!

But 10! the chaffering crowds in these dark lands

That kneel to altars made with bloody hands,

The priests that traffic in Thy Statutes, Lord,

The prophets that: imputc unto the Sword

Glory and might—look ’neath their sham again,

Look and behold, my Lord, they. are not men!

Hirelings are they and greedy hustlers, all!

Not one divinely troubled by Thy Call!

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Else why, when I but breathe Thy Name they flee,

Roaring and rushing like the bitter sea?

Else Why, when I compel their leering eyes

A moment from the vulgar things they prize Thcy run as from the terror of the pit?

Lord, Lord, answer me, why, why is it?

‘ABDU’L—BAHA

FRANCES MITCHELL

To us, stay close, dear Master, as we climb. Give us Your Hand. We need the Friend of Friends. Servant of God, Great Leader of the meek! May we be servants without selfish ends, In the vast household reaching to the stars. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, teach us Whose Day appears, So fair above the black and red of Mars. It lights the hearts, it dries the bitter tears. Retreating, the massed forces of the night, With fury seek to stop the Dawning Sun, As on their heels, the Angels of the Light, Pursue them with the glittering banner, One. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, give us Your Hand we pray, Lest we forget the Glory of this Day.

HEAR, O ISRAEL!

GERTRUDE W. ROBINSON

Hear, O Israel!

Thy Lord is come, resplendent with great power;

And Carmel thrills at mention of His name.

Earth has dropped her shroud of mourning.

That Which man conceived

Behind dense veils of fancy

Is now replaced by lightning Truth

In vivid, naked beauty.

Turn again to Him, 0 Israel!

And read anew His Holy Word,

The promise of His grace.

The signs are there, with inner meaning

Unrevealed until today.

Thy Lord is come!

He speaks, thy Buckler and thy Shield. Hear, O Israel!

THE Bahá’í

WORLD

Hat dein stummes Rufen wieder mich unfangen? Fiihre mich die Stufen, Ias mieh durehgclangen,

wo in ernstem Dienen eigen und gcrade

ganz ich, ganz beschienen bin von deiner Gnade.

Seeie, sie beschwinget sich leuchtend in Spiralen . . . fernster Glanz besinget dich, letzte Tone strahlen . . .

—ADELBERT MfiHLSCHLEGEL.

THE SEEKER

GERTRUDE W. ROBINSON

There must be loveliness I have not known Else hunger would not be so deep. Despair would crush me,

But this yearning passion for the altitudes Beyond my ken

Knows but one answer,

Full completion.

No cry can be so faint, but finds response Somewhere in all infinity;

And so my soul shall keep its inner urge

To scale the unseen heights

And breathe the unimagincd airs

Of ratified and mystic climes.

Somewhere all Beauty waits

Beyond the Seven Valleys of the soul; And naught shall keep my hungry heart From seeking through the endless reach Of all Eternity

The loveliness my heart has never known.

THE SUPPLIANT

SILVIA MARGOLIS

Lord, I am cold and poor and needy, Needy and poor am I again,

Again my heart is bleak and emptyEmpty even of pain!

I know the way unto Thy Storehouse, I know the path unto Thy Springs,

But Lord, :1 brazen wall doth bar me: Grant me the power of wings!

[Page 937]VERSE

THE PROPHET OF NUR

ALICE SIMMONS Cox

“Who maketh effort for Us, in our way will we guide him,”

But, "He who turneth his back when once he hath listened” . . .

This pondered two envoys in Islém who set forth together

To question with fairness the claim of One who had risen

As Day-Star in Persia, as Guide for a world long in error; "And whoso turneth his face to the backward—what import?”

Asked Abu’l. "Does the Prophet fail one Who really seeks guidance

And then on the threshold of morning must pause for an instant

And true he to self before he submit to commandment!”

I"Ah, no,” answered ‘Abbés, “if men have not glimpsed of the dawning.

A difference lies here: The gods give of mercy and patience;

Our Allah is kind to souls that see not, yet temper

Each nerve of their beings to find some link with Perfection,

Some hidden and loving rapport with all that existeth.

Suppose on the morrow we find When we meet Husayn-‘Ali,

A seer, or the Promised of Ages; not frail finite teacher,

But Prophet, whose knowledge transcendeth our leader’s,

Whose grace reflects God and whose claims seem truly well-founded "What then be our action? Forget our old fealty and follow.>

Would I give my life’s blood to completely surrender? No not

To one who now is my teacher, though great is his learning,

And much I admire him. My soul is my own! and I’m loyal

As you to the center of glory, the master Within me. .

But, beloved! I’m suddenly shaken! What means this enchantment

937

That lures now our spirits on tides of volition and power

Beyond our own choosing? With consciousness light and ecstatic

We move, as it were, toward a vortex of Truth and of Beauty!”

“Should now we resume our fond ways though call of remembrance?

I swear by Muhammad I will not! Should old ties compel me,

What joy would I lose that now charms my being

And Whispers I near the white Shrine of Fulfillment!

Am I blinded as Saul, or bewitched as the wandering dervish

Who sings on the highways of Islém his love for this Master?

But hastel'Let us go, With fairest of hearing and judgment.

With question and judgment. repulses that phrasing.

If judge we this Man, does it seem we might forfeit our heaven?

My heart

"Oh, we seek Him to know! though our sun be an ember and dying.

Perhaps I o’er rate Him this moment of transcendent feeling,

My hope greatly praising, though eyes of my mind have not seen Him,

Or ears listened well to His vast rushing torrent of speaking

That sweeps down the mountains of Ni’u‘ and convinces the people.

But if we should Know Him, my Abu’l, and then turn us backward,

Bereavement would shroud us as pall o’er the soul of the Judas,

Who loved and rejoiced, and then closed the Window of Knowledge.

"Man’s mystery I show,” Abu’l heard in sacred Communion,

When later he knelt at the feet of the Teacher whose chanting

Illumined his reason and woke him,—as harps in high chancels

Might summon the angels to singing—then tuned his whole spirit

To godly emotion. Tears rose to his eyes and swift-flowing,

[Page 938]\

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Revealed his submission, a WeH—spring of reverence within him.

”Return to the Mullá, I cannot,” he told his companion;

”I stay here to learn, not to question, the Truth that long we were seeking;

The Light that we yearned for together I find here is burning.”

”Assurance uplifts me,” cried ‘Abbés. “I worship! I praise Hi'm!

To return were a sign of my pride and explicit rejection;

My teacher no longer, the Mullá of Abad, who led me

To seek this bright goal, but refuses to come to the Riḍván . . .

We are true to ourselves and our mission, when true to All Beauty.

We give up the sceptre of will when thus we attaineth

Such ransom as flows to our hearts from this Master of Guidance:

He standeth within us! and we are gold beams with His Sunrise,

Clear drops of the stream that grows sweet When fed from this Fountain.”

DESPUES DE ESTAS LAGRIMAS

By WILLIAM KENNETH CHRISTIAN

Translated by LUPE TORREZ

Después de estas légrimas

La calma ventré otra vez;

La sanadora lluvia después de esta sequin.

El odio tendré que terminar su marcha,

A1 mal se le llegaré su dia,

E1 dafio de la sociedad tendré que ser quemado.

La fiebre y la pesadilla,

La punzada y estocada del dolor,

E1 absorto aliento de angustia,

La encendida frente y estremecimiento de los miembros

Son muestras que invisibles fuerZas '

Se han reanimado para el alivio del hombre y de las naciones.

Los limitados de ensuefios y estrechos de corazén

THE Bahá’í

WORLD

Son asolados Arrancadores de dinero y engendradores de mala fama,

Los débiles, Ios que gimen, y los timidos,

Los cortos de vista y amantes de la antig sedad,

Esos que abrigan e1 Sacramento de fama

pagana,

Los incensadores y entorpecedores de la mente,

L05 hombres y las mujeres que creen que el universo

Se concentra en un continente,

En un pais, en un estado

En una ciudad, en un pueblo o aldea, En una raza, una iglesia, una pandilla; Estos sufrirén enfermedad

Como los tormentos de los condenados.

Estos serén horrorizados, afrentados, confundidos, g

Asombrados, excitados, sacudidos,

Por las arrastradoras fuerzas del género humano

Brotando de su crisélida,

Por e1 purificante fuego del desastre,

Mientras las flaquezas y tonterias del pasado

Son quemadas.

Entonces piedad tened de 105 ciegos de corazén

Hasta que estas légrimas hayan pasado.

Con hombrecillos, pacientes sed

Hasta que la pubertad hayan cumplido,

Y las ansias de la adolescencia se hayan agitado;

Hasta que las frustraciones de un mundo dividido

Se hayan soldado en paz y en sapiencia,

Con la humanidad al fin madura.

Larga puede que sea la noche y fria,

Y e1 viento puede que azote con furia Hasta blandir e1 més intrépido corazén; T31 vez veamos grandes érboles desarraigados Y poderosos rios abrir nuevos cafios

En la superficie del globo.

Que sea—y bienvenido.

Este en la historia del hombre es el més grande momento;

A menos que se derramen las légrimas, el corazén es duro;

[Page 939]VERSE

A menos que el cielo llueva fuego, la mente sin pensar

Sigue su relejado increativo camino;

A menos que cimientos se desmoronen,

El hombre no se mueve para fincar un mundo

Digno de su verdadero destino.

.

Esta es la pesadilla del alma;

El amargo lecho del dolor dondc ajetreamos,

Viendo e1 pasado, en mofa deslizarse en caética corriente.

Esta en suelo del valle es el més profundo sitio,

Las obscuras presagiadoras paredes de granite nos encierran,

Mas adelante por la tenebrosidad, el caos y la noche.

Con pies firmes marchamos.

Ni guerra, ni pestilencia,

Ni pluma, ni espada, ni pérdida de familia o amistad,

Ni e1 saqueo de la bestia que mora tan profunda

Dentro de cada uno de nosotros,

Puede detener la marcha hacia adelante

Por la obscuridad de la noche.

Aunque los oidos estén ensordecidos,

-Un canto-existe en el alma;

Aunque la mente esté muy pasmada para pensar. '

Podemos inconscientemente comprender

Lo que el corazén comienza a presentir,

Mientras por senderos ignotos

Hacia nuestro destino procedemos.

El ritmo del mundo ha cambiado;

El hombre salvaje a la ruina esté pronosticado.

Sobre el yunque de nuestro Dios,

Creador del hombre y del universe.

Nos v21 forjando y dando forma

939

Para el nacimiento de una raza més decente.

Una raza de hombres quienes harén la tierra

Habitacién para el hombre humano,

Quienes proclamarén por continentes y mares,

La unidad de todo el género humano,

La unidad de toda la humanidad al fin madura.

Forjaremos un designio planetario

Para unir las naciones del globo,

Desdefiando diferencias

De sexo, y raza, y religién;

Descartando las necias creencias

Que lejos nos han apartado;

Hablarémos una lengua universal;

Conocerémos la més elevada e inmaculada lealtad humana,

La fidelidad del hombre para Dios

Y el amor del ser humano para 511 clasc.

La tierra esté prefiada,

Y soporta una tremenda carga.

Nosotros de la nueva razn, amantes de todo hombre Nosotros somos la carga pasando por el part0.

Pues que obscura sea la noche,

Los pies jamés temblarén;

Que crezca e1 estrépito,

La mente més se aclararé;

Mientras e1 dolor se aguda,

E1 corazén con un firme, fijo latido palpitaré,

Sintienda el embeleso de la Mano de Dios,

Presintiendo la gloria del mundo future,

Que esté més cerca que nuestro hélito y palpitantes venas,

Sintiendo la estatura de la raza tan excelente,

De la mente tan penetrante y la vista Clara,

Lo que Dios ha decretado como nuestro destine Ahora—en e1 renacimiento del mundo.

[Page 940]

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