Frithjof Schuon Archive

The Spirit-Wheel: a symbol in the regionOf the Bighorn Mountains, in Crow country;A wheel of stones laid out on the grass,Where once stood a messenger from Heaven.An image of the Sun Dance: axis, rim;A magic that lifts up earth to Heaven.The wise man brought the...

There was a child whose toy was broken —It seemed to him as if the world had come to an end.The child did not remain a child, he became a man —He no longer had any desire for that toy.Thus it is with life and with the world —Blessèd is he whose heart contains...

The city of Paris was the love of my youth —The old streets near Notre Dame;Dream-wanderings full of longing songs —There it was that Heaven’s grace came,In a small room, under the roof —It was there that a call from the Most High awoke in me.And then came Africa —...

The town of Mostaghanem: dark blue sea,A golden land with palm trees — and the mosque;A few white houses. Pious people clad in white.Then yellow sand, as far as eye can see.The dervish brothers, who look toward the inward;The holy Shaikh, to whom I had been...