Tears are the silent language of grief

Tears are the silent language of grief

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

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 which time does not lessen and soften.
[Lat., Nullus dolor est quem non longinquitas temporis read more

There is no grief which time does not lessen and soften.
[Lat., Nullus dolor est quem non longinquitas temporis minuat ac
molliat.]

One joy shatters a hundred griefs

One joy shatters a hundred griefs

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak

There is no grief like the grief that does not speak

Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief with thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep read more

Great, good, and just, could I but rate
My grief with thy too rigid fate,
I'd weep the world in such a strain
As it should deluge once again;
But since thy loud-tongued blood demands supplies
More from Briareus' hands than Argus' eyes,
I'll sing thy obsequies with trumpet sounds
And write thy epitaph in blood and wounds.

The only cure for grief is action.

The only cure for grief is action.

Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not
More grief than ye can weep for. That is well--
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Thank God, bless God, all ye who suffer not
More grief than ye can weep for. That is well--
That is light grieving!