Frithjof Schuon Archive

There is not only the beauty of becoming,There is also that of contemplative un-becoming —Thus the extinction that beautifies the soul,When it leans upon the Good of all Goods.When thoughts flee into non-existence —“This is the city of Benares, that I am.”

Mongols love flowers and mysteries.The magical charm of Yellow womenIs explained by this noble pattern of soul —With flowers one can build bridges to Heaven.The content of the most profound questions,The Yellow man can say with flowers.

All-Possibility — the world is a webOf possibilities that colorfully intertwine;Thou wishest to call each thing by its name —But all that thou knowest is in suspense.Categories there are, and none is new to thee;But the Creator of things remains free in everything.

There is a mountain: a snow-covered peak,And down below the hermit’s cell; In heaven’s nearness, serenity shines —Within the heart, the divine essence has its home.Height and depth are two possibilitiesOf the vision of God — and two beatitudes.