Rabia (Rabi'a Al-'Adawiyya): O my Lord, the stars glitter
Rabia inspires more by her life of total absorption in the divine than by any specific ideas or poems. (But see "I carry a torch in one hand.") Her poems are cries of joy taking verbal form with the form itself being insignificant. Born in poverty, orphaned, sold into slavery, unschooled she seems to have been a born mystic caring only about the love of God. A Moslem Therese of Liseaux? Certainly I think of that Christian saint when I read many Sufi poets, but especially Rabia, I can't be disappointed that her poems don't "send me" it is enough to know that the likes of her walk among us.