A Strange Afternoon

I raised my hand to shield myself from the rays of the sun but strangely they appered to pierce through my hand. By noon I was no more concerned by the rays. I sat there without any compulsion to sit

I AM the wind that wavers,
You are the certain land;
I am the shadow that passes
Over the sand.

I am the leaf that quivers,
You, the unshaken tree;
You are the stars that are steadfast,
I am the sea.

You are the light eternal--
Like a torch I shall die.
You are the surge of deep music,
I but a cry!

The Pir of Clay Pots

I am the mystic gypsy called Qalandar;
I have neither fire, home nor monastery
By day I wander about the world,
and at night I sleep with a brick under my head.

- matka pir