We are still savouring and relishing in the outpouring of artistic expressions created in honour of the Bicentenary anniversary of the Birth of Baha’u’llah , and in this post we thought we’d share some of the poetry penned in celebration of this historic and jubilant event.
These poems are all found on the official website connecting the bicentenary celebrations around the world (bicentenary.bahai.org ) and they include works from New Zealand to Switzerland, Ghana to Canada by poets young and old. Below you’ll find some of the English poems showcased on the Bicentenary website but we encourage you to check out the website for more poems and for poetic expressions in other languages.
In Honour of the Bicentenary of the Birth of Baha’u’llah
The Writings told of a Manifestation
Who would rise to His great station
Like a sun lifting into the sky
With joy the children would cry
For near and yonder
Many things were told
By young and by old
That day was the king of days
For all of the sun’s rays,
were shining upon that spot
that we must forget not
For this was the day of a birth
Now celebrated around the earth
The day we said Allah’u’Abha
To the great Manifestation, Baha’u’llah
World-embracing vision
Was the reason for His mission
Peace, love and unity
For the world’s immunity
Equality of men and women
Were of teachings we were given
Universal education
For everyone in every nation
And there is so much more
So come in through the door
And listen to our story
Of great great glory
Beloved
I have drunk in your days, Beloved.
Each trek, each room, reach rose.
I have felt your ceaseless strife,
Every trial of your life.
I think I was ever with You
As You are ever with me.
For you pitched tents in Badasht,
At Baghdad your tablets washed,
Carried your bowl at Sar-Galu,
Picked roses at Ridvan too.
At Takur trailed you into the cypress,
Later rowed you across the Tigris,
Shadowed you through the alleys of Edirne,
Even crept into the great Selimiyeh.
I think I was ever with You
As You are ever with me.
Carried water with Hassan,
And gold and tablets with Salman,
With Mulla Husayn swung swords,
With Aqa Jan scribbled words.
Stirred soup with Aschji,
And knelt with Badi,
Swept with my turban before you,
Rent my veil with Tahirih too.
I think I was ever with You
As You are ever with me.
Disembarked behind you in Haifa,
Carried the Leaves ashore at Akka,
In your company entered the Sea Gate,
And in the same strolled out the Land Gate.
I think I was ever with You
As You are ever with me.
Wept through the bastinado’s bite,
But also at the boy and the skylight,
At the darkness of the cave,
And the ever-lapping wave.
Wept again at the chain’s scar,
At the tremor of the poison jar,
At the loneliness, at the guile,
At the endless, endless exile.
One tribulation at at time.
I think I was ever with You,
As You are ever with me.
The Dawning of a New Day
Tehran, Iran, 1817
At the dawn of the 2nd day of Muharram
The foundation for a global society is laid
He who had come to build anew the whole world is born
O Baha’u’llah
O Daystar of the Universe
O Glory of Glories
Thou art the Bearer of a new Message for all humankind
Tehran, August 1852
In the hallows of a pestilential Black Pit
A White Maiden hovers over the Celestial Head of the Ancient Beauty
And alas, a new revelation is born
O Lord of Lords,
O Preserved Treasure
O Most Great Light
Thou hast shed Thy radiance over the whole world
Baghdad, April 1963,
On the eve of His departure to Constantinople
Amidst a few companions, in the Garden of Paradise
The Day of God is Dawned
O Hidden Name
O Speaker on Sinai
O Pen of the Most High
He Whom God will make manifest is declared
29th May, 1892
The glory of His Presence is withdrawn
And the ocean of His utterance is stilled
40 years of exile and imprisonment come to an end at last
The Light of the Splendour of God is set
Announced from the minarets in the mosque in Akka;
God is great, He giveth life! He taketh it again!
He dieth not, but liveth for everymore
Rejoice, I bid thee rejoice
“This is the Day in which mankind can behold the Face,
And hear the Voice, of the Promised One
The Call of God hath been raised,
And the light of His countenance hath been lifted up upon men
In behooveth every man to blot out the trace of every idle word
From the tablet of his heart, and gaze, with an open and unbiased mind
On the signs of His Revelation,
The proofs of His Mission,
And the tokens of His glory”
Rejoice, I bid thee rejoice
Day of Remembrance
Reverently gathered in silence and prayer
In praise of a beauty beyond all compare
Attracted as moths, to a flame so divine
All hearts “on fire” as we think back in time…
200 years of unending love
200 years of “light from above”
Rising reflections of “heaven on earth”
A day of remembrance: Baha’u’llah’s birth
What greater gift than to hear of His name
To learn of His Teachings and honour His claim
To rise up in service, to further His Cause
To tell of His Faith and establish His laws
(For to what other truth may we turn to for relief,
To grant the world freedom from sorrow and grief;
And where now the hope of which mankind despairs,
If not in His answer to all of our prayers?)
Heavenly Spirit, born into night–
That people and nations should one day unite
And banners of peace shall be raised and unfurled
Imparting His glorious light to the world!
200 years of unending love
200 years of “light from above”
Rising reflections of “heaven on earth”
A day of remembrance:
Baha’u’llah’s birth
Nightingale Cry
Today, to this melody of the Company on high,
the world will leap and dance: “Glory be to my Lord,
the All Glorious!” But know ye this: save for this
song of God, no song will stir the world, and save for
this nightingale-cry of truth from the Garden of God,
No melody will lure away the heart. “Whence cometh
this Singer Who speaketh the Beloved’s name?”
– Abdu’l-Baha
In darkness once with ear to ground
The pure in heart could hear the sound
Glory be to my Lord, the All-Glorious!
In streaks of day then birdsong came
To stir the world with sweet refrain
Glory be to my Lord, the All-Glorious!
Perfect notes of the Nightingale
Bid sun to rise and night to pale
Glory be to my Lord, the All-Glorious!
A song as old as it is new
Warbled fresh in the morning dew
Glory be to my Lord, the All-Glorious!
With light and beauty so imbued
Guiding lovers to certitude
Glory be to my Lord, the All-Glorious!
Words once hidden now stream from grace
That faithful souls may find their place
Glory be to my Lord, the All-Glorious!
Most holy verse with might vibrates
Each syllable new life creates
Glory be to my Lord, the All-Glorious!
The cry of truth for every ear
That promised day of joy is here
Glory be to my Lord, the All-Glorious!
Awakened now from heedless trance
At last the world will leap and dance
Glory be to my Lord, the All-Glorious!
One
What words could cast a net around the essence of Him?
How can a poet fashion a poem for the Fashioner?
Two starts collided in space 140 million years ago
Spinning out from their collapse into one another
Billions of particles of gold
Filled the universe with precious flakes of light
That floated past every moon
Carried over endless ripples of time
To illumine the skies in Iran
And drape the trees in India
Sparkle in the mountains of Uzbekistan
And twinkle in the grasses of America
Glisten in the waters of Pacific
And light up the plains of Africa
What words could catch and hold
The sweetness of such joy?
The softness that folds the corners of the eyes
At the mention of His name
No.
It cannot be found in the lines of any poem
Even if written with the ink of oceans
And the leaves of every tree
Utterance was lost before His Words
Flooded the world
Rippling out over every stone to every corner of every heart
How could these words contain what every day
Ever created
Before this one
Was purposed for?
It cannot be.
All it can hope to reflect is the breath of the soul
When its wings take their first tentative beat of life
The realization that sometimes renders into
Knowledge stacked like shadows from traditions long lifeless
The shifts
The falling and smoothing out of thought
The vision that sees we are one
That we love
Two
In every verse and line I tried to write
To describe Him
Was the spilled ink from my broken pen
That could never contain in its slender form
Such beauty
Three
Asked to write a poem
A testament of my love
I tried
I sat with pen and ready
I scratched with words
Pictures of light and stars
But how does one write of the love
From which one’s very breath first came?
I can’t.
My pen broke.
We’d definitely recommend taking a closer look at the artistic expressions on the Bicentenary website . For example, if you read Arabic, here is a poem from Egypt and here is one from Iraq . There’s a lot of inspiring content to visit and revisit!
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In her innermost heart, Sonjel is a stay-at-home parent and a bookworm with a maxed out library card but professionally she is a museologist with a background in English Literature. She currently lives on Prince Edward Island, an isle in the shape of a smile on the eastern Canadian coast. Sonjel is a writer who loves to listen to jazz when she's driving at night.
All wonderful but especially appreciated the poem that was performed as a song ( would really like to hear it performed!) the Day of Remembrance.
Wonderful, indeed!
Jacques ( Brazil )
Jacques (December 12, 2017 at 11:15 AM)