The All.

All I pray (for)

Is that I share the pain of my brother

And not be indifferent to his suffering
Not hide dishonorably and watch without seeing

All I ask

Is that I will not accept any war
And not let evil defeat me again
Not let happiness be suppressed as a wage for injury

All I seek

Is that I will let the future of a refugee
And his forced departure to a foreign land
Not be passed by indifferently by me and others

All I desire

Is that I will not tolerate human betrayal
And bravely defy the deception so that never, ever
The maverick or the group is given the room to forget

All I beg

Is that I not now, not ever will close my eyes
And without so much as a gesture or a single word
Not grant the cold killer to smite even one innocent being

All I wish

Is that I learn to embrace love
And have an eye for the souls that belong to us
Not only direct my view inwards and not see the All.


Inspired by: Solo le pido a Dios by Mercedes Sosa.

The only tradition

The human race prides its traditions
Some strange customs, cruel anomalies

Clubbing seals and hunting the big five
Is what humans call a proud manly custom

Torturing bulls and harpooning whales
Is what men call a true part of their culture

Female genital mutilation and similar
Is what educators sell as religious tradition

These fabrications are not the traditions
That God has imposed on us

There is just but one tradition
Really worth your while

There is only but one tradition
To pass on to your children

All other is of mendacious men and
Goes against your fellow earthly creatures

There is just this one tradition
Because there is but one Beloved

Respect all life, love and pray,
Find the path, strive for a worthy return

G

M

T

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AfrikaansAlbaneesArabischArmeensAzerbeidzjaansBaskischBengaalsBirmaansBosnischBulgaarsCatalaansCebuanoChichewaChinees (trad)Chinees (ver)DeensDuitsEngelsEsperantoEstsFinsFransGallicischGeorgischGrieksGujaratiHaïtiaans& CreoolsHausaHebreeuwsHindoestaansHmongHongaarsIersIgboIJslandsIndonesischItaliaansJapansJavaansJiddischKannadaKazachsKhmerKoreaansKroatischLaoLatijnLetsLitouwsMacedonischMalagasiMalayalamMaleisMalteesMaoriMarathiMongoolsNederlandsNepaleesNoorsOekraïensOezbeeksPerzischPoolsPortugeesPunjabiRoemeensRussischServischSesothoSinhalaSlovaaksSloveensSoedaneesSomalischSpaansSwahiliTadzjieksTagalogTamilTeluguThaiTsjechischTurksUrduVietnameesWelsWit-RussischYorubaZoeloeZweeds

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Mindfulness.

    
Please inform the master

That my house is ready

My rooms are full of expectation 
To be filled with emptiness
And should he desire 
To pick me a flower
Even a dried one
He will see me smile

© 2016-01-20

Of poets and prophets

People of the book
understand the heart
of that anthology

Where you can 
read that Yeshua
is the friend 
of Muhammed And 
both know Avraham, 
offspring of Seth, 
as their father
An Egyptian prince 
tried to save 
a vane and 
in stone chiselled 
nation That message 
was so much 
later rewritten by 
a self-proclaimed priest
But alas he 
just passed on 
his own Babylonian 
confusion to us
Marriages were dissolved 
by that human law, 
not acknowledged as 
from the nation
Not by God 
of course, He 
never casts out
children or lovers
Rumi knows that
the Merciful binds, 
rebbe Yeshua will 
not judge us 
and the Prophet 
knows your name
Not guiltless animals 
in a sacrificial fire, 
not coins for 
the Sanhedrin or 
pointed minarets Buy 
off our sins 
or are the wages 
that are asked 
of you, not, 
not Nothing He 
wishes but respect 
towards his creation, 
love for that 
what He loves
Our common path 
to the Almighty 
will not be 
achieved by excluding
Not by hate, 
but by embracing 
you get nearer 
to the Beloved
Learn, learning to 
open up and 
be accessible and 
understanding as a 
loving parent for 
the toughest child
And I miss 
my two fathers 
much and all 
my friends that 
passed away, the 
poets and prophets

In His Garden (Magyarország)

And the garden crackled under my feet

The weed crushed like glass underneath my soles

Burning hot as the mountain of Moses felt your breath.


Why then watered my eyes in the blind setting sun

While you embraced me so warmly with air and light

When I dreamt in the garden chair of my father.


I live on, on what once was the border of Islam and Christianity

Because you´re in my life and me have given her

The quest comes here to an end, I find me and I Am.


Wet the soil with rainfall, now the yard where my soul lingers

I walk for the first time of my life on dead and hallowed ground

Hallowed because it was created by him, dead because here I rest.

Translated in Hungarian (written and translated while I lived in Merenye): 

A Kertjében (Magyarországon).

És a kért, ahol ropogott a lábam alatt

A gyomok, mint a zúzott üveg talpam alatt

Égő forró, mint a Mózes hegye érezte a lélegzetét.    

           

Miért itatni szemem a lemenő nap fényében vak               

Amíg megölelt olyan meleg a levegő és a fény

Amikor azt álmodtam az kertülés apám.

Élek, hogy milyen volt, amikor a határ iszlám és a kereszténység

Mert te vagy az életemben, és adott nekem ő

A küldetés itt véget ér, azon kapom magam, és Én Vagyok.

Nedves az talajt az eső, most az udvaron, ahol a lelkem voltál

Futok az első alkalom az életemben, mint a halál és a szent földet

Fordítani, mint azt hozta létre, hogy halott, mert én vagyok pihent itt.

© 2016-01-06