Frithjof Schuon Archive

Divine Grace comes, a gentle miracle —Like a mild and cool spring breezeIn burning sunshine; like the murmuring of a fountain,Whose freshness flows through the parched soul.When the soul, moved inwardly by God,Remembers Him alone.

Worldly culture — an empty wasteAnd futile pursuit; when the storm has died,The broom of time will sweep away All delusion like autumn leaves.Consider the wise economy of nature;Each year brings forth new wondersIn God’s language, not man’s compulsions.Richness in...

A Greek monk told me: “Under the Turks,The life of our monasteries was not disturbed:But the moment we were liberated from the Turkish yoke,Hundreds of monasteries were closed by the Greeks.”A sign of our enlightened time.

Poems must offer a variety of things —Whether one wishes to or not, one has to teach,Because the world is the world, be it great or small —Thou canst not always sing of the good.And may God forgive thy to-and-fro —True words, thou needst not regret.