As far as you can avoid it, do not give grief to anyone. Never inflict your rage on another. If you hope for eternal rest, feel the pain yourself; but don’t hurt others.
OMAR KHAYYAMAs far as you can avoid it, do not give grief to anyone. Never inflict your rage on another. If you hope for eternal rest, feel the pain yourself; but don’t hurt others.
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 KHAYYAMTo friends and eke to foes true kindness show; No kindly heart unkindly deeds will do; Harshness will alienate a bosom friend. And kindness reconcile a deadly foe.
OMAR KHAYYAMMyself when young did eagerly frequent doctor and saint, and heard great argument about it and about: but evermore came out by the same door as in I went.
OMAR KHAYYAMOh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, And ev’n with Paradise devise the snake; For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man Is blackened – Man’s forgiveness give and take!
OMAR KHAYYAMYou know how little while we have to stay, And, once departed, may return no more.
OMAR KHAYYAMThy Return is as another Sun to Heaven; a new Rose blooming in the Garden of the Soul.
OMAR KHAYYAMA hair divides what is false and true.
OMAR KHAYYAMA loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.
OMAR KHAYYAMIf I don’t enjoy myself now, when shall I?
OMAR KHAYYAMIndeed the Idols I have loved so long, have done my credit in this World much wrong; have drowned my Glory in a shallow Cup, and sold my Reputation for a Song.
OMAR KHAYYAMAnd this I know; whether the one True Light Kindle to Love, or Wrath consume me quite, One flash of it within the Tavern caught Better than in the temple lost outright.
OMAR KHAYYAMOh, the brave Music of a distant drum!
OMAR KHAYYAMDead yesterdays and unborn tomorrows, why fret about it, if today be sweet.
OMAR KHAYYAMThis clay, so strong of heart, of sense so fine, Surely such clay is more than half divine–‘Tis only fools speak evil of the clay, The very stars are made of clay like mine.
OMAR KHAYYAMI wonder what the vintners buy one half so precious as the stuff they sell.
OMAR KHAYYAM