To all of us the thought of heaven is dear ---
Why not be sure of it and make it here?
No doubt there is a heaven yonder too,
But 'tis so far away --- and you are near.
تا راه قلندری نپویی نشود
رخساره بخون دل نشویی نشود
سودا چه پزی تا که چو دلسوختگان
آزاد به ترک خود نگویی نشود
Realise this: one day your soul
will depart from your body and you will
be drawn behind the curtain that floats between us
and the unknown. While you wait for that moment, be happy,
because you don't know where you came from and
you don't know where you will be going.
A piece of bread,
some fresh water,
the shadow of a tree and your eyes, my beloved.
No sultan is happier than me,
no beggar more sad.
What is my true substance?
What will remain of me after my death?
Our life is as short as a raging fire:
flames the passer-by soon forgets,
ashes the wind blows away.
A man's life.
When you are so full of sorrow
that you can't walk, can't cry anymore,
think about the green foliage that sparkles after
the rain. When the daylight exhausts you, when
you hope a final night will cover the world,
think about the awakening of a young child.
And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky,
Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die,
Lift not thy hands to it for help -- for It
Rolls impotently on as Thou or I.
But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me
The Quarrel of the Universe let be:
And, in some corner of the Hubbub couch'd,
Make Game of that which makes as much of Thee.
Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
Omar KhayyámWhy was I born, when will I die?
Who can change the day of his birth,
who has a say in the day of his death?
Come, my beloved, I want to ask the spirit
of the wine to make me forget that we
shall never understand.
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