Description
Forty Hadiths to the Broken Heart - The Way of the Dervish 4 Book Description: My intention is to hold the hand of the Prophet while walking on the paths of thought. To accompany his breaths on the slopes of poetry. We have lost. We lost the essence of the Prophet Muhammad [pbuh] who sweated to deserve the revelation in the race in the wars. We heard the wing sounds of his heart telling his teenage friend Zayd bin Sabit how beautifully birds fly; We became lonely. On the threshold of the year of sadness, we crushed the unquenchable fire of his amazement that carried him to the ascension, the elegant skin of his contemplation overflowing to Kab-ı Kavseyn, in the noise of the wars; we have atrophied. We could not hear the pulse of that poetic consciousness that rises above time and retreats to the edge of the world; We have become deaf. While intending to write Forty Hadiths to a Broken Heart, I met those who saw the silent stances of the Prophet [pbuh] echoing in the flow of the poem and brewing in the palm of consciousness. I trusted Fuzuli, who described His crystalline flow as the water hitting its head on the stones. I silently accompanied Mevlana Celaleddin-i Rumi, who saw his breathless stance in the face of revelation, like those who are afraid of fogging their mirror with a single breath. I wore the black sadness of Rilke, who voiced the longing of "Of course Muhammad would come" side by side. "Brother, do not separate us from your bosom!" I remembered the sound of the "mountain springs" in Goethe's heart as he cried. I remembered the sound of Said Nursi, who heard him and his response with amazement at the magnificence of all existence as the "andelib-i zişân" of all times. "Birds fly to imitate your heart. I am dedicated to wearing the celestial gaze of Sezai Karakoç, who said... My intention is to hear the hadiths with a new hearing. And to announce them. To host in our chest the prophetic heart that struggles to deserve the Word to come, to do justice to the Word that has come. To hold the hand of the Prophet while walking on the paths of thought. To accompany their breath on the slopes of poetry. To read the lives of the companions as a life poem written with great effort. To listen to their silence as the voice of hope. To touch their wait as the sound of water hitting the stones... - Senai Demirci - (From the Promotional Bulletin)