Daniel Ladinsky, Poet

Something Missing In My Heart
Daniel Ladinsky On The God-Intoxicated Poetry Of Hafiz

by Andrew Lawler

Rumi and Hafiz can have a great effect on the young. They can safeguard them and point them in the right direction. They are like that Emmylou Harris song: “I would swim the sea for to ease your pain.” They are pain eaters. I see fine poems, whether by Rumi or Hafiz or Mary Oliver or [Rainer Maria] Rilke or Walt Whitman, as baby salvations.


I grew up in the St. Louis suburbs, and the woods became a real salvation for me. Maybe there was too much red meat and white bread and parents influenced by Frank Sinatra and Marilyn Monroe in my home. These are more lethal and burdening on young wings than we know. I would retreat to the woods alone with my dog, build a fire, and feel restored. Then I would go back inside. When I was thirteen or fourteen years old, I would just go out and sit in the doghouse. It was like a sweet little cave, a refuge.


When one spends time around a true saint, a wedding begins to be planned in the saint’s mind. At this juncture the one who has the grace to be hanging out with the saint may know nothing about the astounding great fortune that is waiting for him or her if he or she can just hang in there, be of at least a little service, and become a trusted friend. I feel married to my teacher, and a divorce is really impossible. I can draw upon him whenever I want. Our vows allow that. And I feel he can still give to me in remarkable ways, and even give to people who have not physically met him. If you google the name Eruch Jessawala, you can watch a five-minute video of him and form your own impression of this person who has affected every single poem I have ever written, including some four thousand original mutant haiku I scratched out in a one-year period. I have written some eight thousand poems. Praying like hell helped a bunch!