Oh! My beloved! fill the cup, that clears to-day of past regrets and future fears.
OMAR KHAYYAMOh! My beloved! fill the cup, that clears to-day of past regrets and future fears.
OMAR KHAYYAMHeaven but the vision of fulfilled desire, and Hell the shadow from a soul on fire.
OMAR KHAYYAMDust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End!
OMAR KHAYYAMThe value of three things is justly appreciated by all classes of men: youth, by the old; health, by the diseased; and wealth, by the needy.
OMAR KHAYYAMA drink is shorter than a tale.
OMAR KHAYYAMI can’t reveal the mystery to either saint or sinner; I can’t state at length what I’ve said curtly; I achieve an altered state that I can’t explain; I have a secret that I cannot share.
OMAR KHAYYAMTomorrow! – Why, tomorrow I may be Myself with yesterday’s sev’n thousand years.
OMAR KHAYYAMThink not I dread to see my spirit fly, Through the dark gates of fell mortality; Death has no terrors when the life is true; ‘Tis living ill that makes us fear to die.
OMAR KHAYYAMOh, the brave Music of a distant drum!
OMAR KHAYYAMWake! For the Sun, who scatter’d into flight The Stars before him from the Field of Night, Drives Night along with them from Heav’n, and strikes The Sultan’s Turret with a Shaft of Light.
OMAR KHAYYAMThe entire world shall be populous with that action which saves one soul from despair.
OMAR KHAYYAMAh Love! could you and I with him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire Would we not shatter it to bits-and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire?
OMAR KHAYYAMWe are thinking about bad only those who are worse than we are, and those who are better than us … I’m just not up to us … One does not follow it than smell roses. Another of the bitter herbs will produce honey. Give bread to one – will remember forever. Another life donation – do not understand.
OMAR KHAYYAMIt’s too bad if a heart lacks fire, and is deprived of the light of a heart ablaze. The day on which you are without passionate love is the most wasted day of your life.
OMAR KHAYYAMThe Revelations of Devout and Learn’d Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn’d, Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep They told their comrades, and to Sleep return’d.
OMAR KHAYYAMFor in and out, above, about, below, ‘Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show, Played in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.
OMAR KHAYYAM