Poetry Chaikhana Blog

/ Photo by mattcameasarat /

In sacred wine poetry, the tavern is constantly evoked.

Dawn:
the tavern:
I learned the inside way
from a licensed guide.

- Imadeddin Nasimi (1369? – 1418)

The Drunken Universe: An Anthology of Persian Sufi Poetry Translated by Peter Lamborn Wilson / Translated by Nasrollah Pourjavady

The tavern can be understood in a few ways.

On a social level, the tavern is the gathering place for the lovers of wine. The tavern is where mystics meet. It is the Sufi house of zikr. It is where Hindu bhaktis sing their bhajans. It is the Buddhist Sangha, the Christian fellowship. It is the kiva and the campfire. It is the circle of true seekers, deep thinkers – and wine drinkers.

/ Photo by indigoprime /

But understood esoterically, the tavern is the place within oneself where the many disparate and scattered parts of the individual come together in a unified whole to become drunk on the free-flowing Celestial Drink. Continue Reading »

The cup of wine for us
      is mother’s milk.
If we don’t taste it
      we no longer live.

- Qushayri (d. 1074)

Early Islamic Mysticism: Sufi, Quran, Miraj, Poetic and Theological Writings (Classics of Western Spirituality) by Michael A. Sells

While sacred wine imagery occurs all over the world, the theme is perhaps most fully developed by the great Sufi poets.

This is especially interesting because of the complex relationship Islam has with wine. In Christianity, wine is the sacramental drink of the Eucharist, but in traditional Muslim observation, wine is forbidden. Yet, surprisingly, wine is promised to devout Muslims in heaven. It is on this tension that Sufi poetry thrives.

Go to the Winery and exchange your robe for a drink of wine,
Despite the arrogant pious, drink like a Sufi.

- Moulana Shah Maghsoud (1914 – 1980)

The forbidden worldly drink is also the sacred drink. That which is most profane is somehow transformed to become that which is most sacred. What is the difference? What changes the forbidden into the most holy of substances? Continue Reading »

/ Photo by tibchris /

We’ve talked about the winepress and juice, but juice alone doesn’t make men drunk. It must be fermented…

I drink no ordinary wine,
but Wine of Everlasting Bliss,
As I repeat my Mother Kali’s name;
It so intoxicates my mind that people take me to be drunk!
First my guru gives molasses for the making of the Wine;
My longing is the ferment to transform it.
Knowledge, the maker of the Wine,
prepares it for me then;
And when it is done,
my mind imbibes it from the bottle of the mantra,
Taking the Mother’s name to make it pure.
Drink of this Wine, says Ramprasad,
and the four fruits of life are yours.

- Ramprasad Sen (1718? – 1775?)

Kali: The Black Goddess of Dakshineswar by Elizabeth U. Harding

In Ramprasad’s song of “no ordinary wine,” the “molasses” is the sweetening agent that feeds the fermentation process. It is the initiating element that readies us internally for the process of deeper awakening.

His intense desire or longing for God, here as Kali, the Divine Mother, “ferments” that energy, causing this sacred brew to bubble and expand, giving it a vitality of its own. Fermentation is the inner quickening.

“Drink of this Wine, says Ramprasad” — indeed, we should!

Fermentation and the Christian Tradition

We often think of the great sacred wine songs as coming from the Sufi poets, but I want to take a moment to point out that the Celestial Drink is universal and is described in all of the world’s spiritual and religious traditions.

The divine liquid appears in many forms throughout Christian sacred tradition, as wine, blood, oil, water… Continue Reading »

/ Photo by d-man / Carpe diem /

If we want to truly get drunk on the wine of union, then we have to understand how the wine appears…

The grapes of my body can only become wine
After the winemaker tramples me.
I surrender my spirit like grapes to his trampling
So my inmost heart can blaze and dance with joy.
Although the grapes go on weeping blood and sobbing
“I cannot bear any more anguish, any more cruelty”
The trampler stuffs cotton in his ears: “I am not working in ignorance
You can deny me if you want, you have every excuse,
But it is I who am the Master of this Work.
And when through my Passion you reach Perfection,
You will never be done praising my name.”

- Jelaluddin Rumi (1207 – 1273)

The Way of Passion: A Celebration of Rumi by Andrew Harvey

This verse by Rumi says so much. Here he is telling us that the wine of the mystic is really the refined essence of oneself. It is formed from “the grapes of my body.” The wine is the juice emitted by the ego, the selfish, separate idea of the self when it finally surrenders, crushed into non-existence.

Of course, working toward that complete surrender can be terrifying… so long as we identify with the ego. There are times when the seeker calls out, “I cannot bear any more anguish, any more cruelty.” But the Winemaker, caring for us too much to let us remain comfortably unfinished, continues with the work, knowing the pure sweetness of completion. Continue Reading »

/ Photo by sergis blog /

Before the Celestial Drink can be tasted, there must first be thirst…

As long as I live I will eat and drink
The grief of loving You.
I will never give it up to anyone
Even when I am dead.

- Ayn al-Qozat Hamadani (1098 – 1131)

Perfume of the Desert: Inspirations from the Sufi Wisdom by Andrew Harvey / Eryk Hanut

What is this thirst and what does it have to do with spirituality?

The mystic’s thirst is, of course, a thirst for God, and for the bliss-filled Celestial Drink that often accompanies the experience of divine union. Thirst is a passionate longing for the direct experience of the Real, the Eternal, a longing so intense that it is felt in every level of being.

Parched

- Ivan M. Granger

This thirst must be acknowledged, cultivated, nurtured until it is a pain so sharp it clears the mind and orients the soul where every action and thought naturally leads to the Drink’s source — the wine cellar, the tavern… When the thirst is strong enough, the draw is so strong that rainwater falls from an empty sky.

O soaring eagle! darling lamb!
O glowing spark! Set me on fire!
How long must I endure this thirst?
One hour is already too long,
A day is as a thousand years
When Thou art absent!

- Mechthild of Magdeburg (1207 – 1297)
Of the Voices of the Godhead (excerpt)

German Mystical Writings: Hildegard of Bingen, Meister Eckhart, Jacob Boehme, and others Edited by Karen J. Campbell

The mystic’s thirst becomes so powerful, so “violent” (as Hamadani says in the first poem) that it can be traumatic. It becomes a pain felt on many levels. On one level, it is the “hallowing pain” of relinquishing all to obtain the All… Continue Reading »

In the past I’ve had a few emails pointing out that the language of the Celestial Drink series raises warning flags for people who’ve struggled alcoholism. I have loved ones who are recovering alcoholics, so I understand how serious this question is.

In these Celestial Drink posts, I’ve affected the jovial language of wine and drinking, as do many of the poems we will look at. But I don’t want this to be misunderstood as encouraging alcoholic excess. I certainly don’t read these poems that way.

Actually, I personally don’t drink at all — and never have. I know that sounds bizarre to many people. I wasn’t raised in a strict religious family or anything. In fact, I am the child of hippies, and I was around my share of alcohol and other more interesting smelling substances in my early childhood.

/ Photo by jurvetson /

No, the decision to avoid drinking was a solitary one I made when I was thirteen-years-old. I’ve always loved words, and at that age I started thinking about the word “intoxication.” It hit me that getting drunk would, in fact, make my body “toxic.” So I decided then and there never to drink alcohol. A strange choice that made me something of an outsider throughout my teenage years, but it also taught me a lot about social patterns and behavior. When I was a young adult I discovered that alcoholism ran through my family, further reinforcing my abstinence.

If you want the full truth, I’ll admit that I have tasted wine, beer, champagne, and vodka, each once, and just a sip or two each. I wanted to see what they tasted like. My version of, “I didn’t inhale.”

Neither drinking nor abstinence has anything to do with the Celestial Drink, however. The “wine” we are talking about in this series isn’t wine, and the mystic’s drunkenness is not intoxication.

I sincerely apologize if this series upsets anyone — that is not my intention. But the theme is a foundational one in sacred poetry. I hope that the boisterous language comes through without being weighed down by its literal meaning.

With the Celestial Drink you can be entirely sober and giddy at the same time!

Wine, amrita, ambrosia, dew, tea, elixir, honey, virgin’s milk… References to a secret or forbidden drink appears in the writings and songs of initiates throughout the world. It is a drink that imparts wisdom, inspiration, prophecy, divine madness, and bliss. It is the sign of divine union between lover and the Beloved, the mystic’s marriage wine. But what is this celestial drink really? Why does it appear in sacred writings all over the world?

Let’s explore those questions in this Celestial Drink series…

As I was considering how to begin our exploration of the Celestial Drink, it occurred to me that I needed to find a way to convey that we are not talking about actual wine …or tea or honey or any other physical drink. At the same time, this subtle drink is not merely a metaphor. It is real, and available to everyone.

As long as the discussion remains safely in the intellect, the taste of wine never touches our lips — and who wants somber sobriety when the wine pours so freely?

/ Photo by Jsome1 /

Academics and literary critics are better equipped than I to give you a standard history of how wine and drink images are used in the great writings of the world. Instead, let’s you and I speak in shared whispers, as mystics, passing the cup quietly between us. Let us share the true taste and not simply the description…

Omar Khayyam Iran/Per (11th Century) Timeline Muslim / Sufi

You know, my Friends, how long since in my House
For a new Marriage I did make Carouse:
Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,
And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.

- Omar Khayyam (1048 – 1131)

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (Illustrated Edition) by Omar Khayyam / Translated by Edward FitzGerald

The language of a sacred drink, a secret drink that imparts wisdom and bliss appears in the writings and songs of initiates throughout the world — wine, amrita, ambrosia, dew, tea, elixir, virgin’s milk. But what are these really? Continue Reading »