“Run my dear,From anythingThat may not strengthenYour precious budding wings.”

“Run my dear, From anything That may not strengthen Your precious budding wings. Run like hell my dear, From anyone likely To put a sharp knife Into the sacred, tender vision Of your beautiful heart.”

“TRIPPING OVER JOYWhat is the differenceBetween your experience of ExistenceAnd that of a saint?The saint knowsThat the spiritual pathIs a sublime chess game with GodAnd that the BelovedHas just made such a Fantastic MoveThat the saint is now continuallyTripping over JoyAnd bursting out in LaughterAnd saying, “I Surrender!”Whereas, my dear,I am afraid you still thinkYou have a thousand serious moves.”

“Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you.”

“Follow my tracks in the sand that leadBeyond thought and space.”

“Build a House for men and birds.Sit with them and play music.For a day, for just one day,talk about that which disturbs no oneand bring some peace,my friend,into your beautiful eyes.”

“شب تاریک و بیم موج و گردابی چنین هایلکجا دانند حال ما سبکباران ساحل ها”