Frithjof Schuon Archive

O song of lute in a mild summer night —Why dost thou come to mind, O sweetness?I wish not to drive thee from the world,Be what thou art. And I am what I am.

Ye sons of the desert! Why do ye stressThat God is One? Are there no other treasuresIn the Divine? A thousandfold is the splendorOf the All! But God is the One Protector.

Certitude and Peace; then resignationAnd trust in God. More we cannot wantAlongside the graces that Heaven bestows —In the circle of duties that we must fulfill.

Thou canst not prevent peopleFrom having opinions; these cannotChange Reality, nor darken The God-given Light of the Pure Spirit.Well, one can talk, though sometimes it is of no use —The deaf will hear on Judgement Day.God grant that they will understand what they...