Frithjof Schuon Archive

Autumn — it slips downwards into the snowAnd flees; one could expect nothing elseAfter all the tired leaves swept away by the wind.But that spring should come — this is the miracle;The garden will bloom like a gift from heaven.Thus it is with the soul that discovers...

On the day that my oldest friend passed away,I received his last letter.I have known this loyal friend since our schooldays;It is difficult to believe that he no longer is.At his grave, in order to do something meaningful,Someone read four of my didactic poems.An old...

Three human types: first the one who wants only to enjoy;Next the ascetic, stubborn despiser of the world;And then the guardian of a wise equilibrium.The latter two can be saints,But not the worldly man, who seeks only enjoyment.The fool does not understand the...

Morning, midday, evening, night —Thus has the Lord made time.Day followed by night: after activity,Respose in contemplativity.Spring, summer, autumn and winter —Life’s spaces within time;Childhood, youth, maturity, old age —Open thyself, O eternity!