Frithjof Schuon Archive

A song of longing vibrates still in me —I do not know from whom; I only know it overcomes my heart —It cannot be forgotten.May that song fill the homeless soulWith Grace —In which direction is the homeward path? In the Will of the Most High.

Hast thou heard the nightingale’s songAt sunset, with the skies aflame? When all is silent and is listening —A song of love from Krishna’s flute.Deep in the wood, the flute’s soundSeemed to ask: When will Radha her Krishna see? Soon, yea, soon!

There is no greatness that begets not beautyIn its striving; There is no beauty without greatness; Such is love.Perhaps love wounds thy heartIn silent pain; But beauty dwells in thy heart’s depthIn profound joy. Be happy, heart, with noble wisdom’s wine;For Light...

O nightingale, in sweetest summer night —O love song, that inflames the soul!Who knows, who knows what longing, longing speaks —Who ever fathomed the depths of love?O love-pain, that finds no cure;O solace, that the beauty of the earth bestows!O world-wheel, that...