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I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.

Omar Khayyam

The thoughtful soul to solitude retires.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Solitude Soul Thinking
Thy Return is as another Sun to Heaven; a new Rose blooming in the Garden of the Soul.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Bloom Garden Heaven Love Rose
And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, Whereunder crawling cooped we live and die, Lift not your hands to It for help-for it As impotently moves as you or I
OMAR KHAYYAM

Death Hands Help Live Move On Perspective Sky Yourself
The 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 KHAYYAM

Atheist Rose Sleep Story Wake Up
Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youths sweet-scented Manuscript should close!
OMAR KHAYYAM

Rose Spring Youth
A drink is shorter than a tale.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Drink One Liner Story
To be free of belief and unbelief is my religion.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Belief Freedom Religion Thinking
Here’s to the man Who owns the land That bears the grapes That makes the wine That tastes as good As this does.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Food Goodness Men Taste Wine
The moving finger writes; and having writ, moves on.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Break Fingers Move On Silence Writing
You know, my friends, with what a brave carouse I made a Second Marriage in my house; favored old barren reason from my bed, and took the daughter of the vine to spouse.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Bed Brave Daughter Friendship Husband Marriage Reason Yourself
I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Blessing Death Grief Hide Love Myself Preparation
Why ponder thus the future to foresee, and jade thy brain to vain perplexity? Cast off thy care, leave Allah’s plans to him – He formed them all without consulting thee.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Care Future God Himself Planning
Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Better Fruit Pleasure Sadness
I sent my Soul through the Invisible, Some letter of that After-life to spell: And by and by my Soul return’d to me, And answer’d: ‘I Myself am Heav’n and Hell.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Heaven Hell Life Myself Soul
My friend, let’s not think of tomorrow, but let’s enjoy this fleeting moment of life.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Enjoyment Friendship Life Love Moments Sexy Thinking
Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss’d Of the Two Worlds so wisely – they are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn Are scattered, and their mouths are stopped with Dust.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Fools Saint Stop World

I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.

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I hide my grief, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die, my love.

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Popular Authors

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