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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

A hair divides what is false and true.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Fake Hairs True Truth
Men talk of heaven, – there is no heaven but here; Men talk of hell, – there is no hell but here; Men of hereafters talk and future lives, – O love, there is no other life – but here.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Deep Future Heaven Hell Life Live Men Philosophy Religion Talk
Heaven has not learned of my arrival, and my departure will not in the least diminish it beauty and grandeur. I will sleep underground, for us ephemeral mortals, the only eternity is the moment and drinking to the moment is better than weeping for it.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Beautiful Cry Death Drink Forever Heaven Learning Moments Mortal Sleep
Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To fly-and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Fire Spiritual Spring Time Wings Winter
Yes, the first morning of creation wrote what the last dawn of reckoning shall read.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Creation Morning Reading Writing
But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Checker-board of Nights and Days; Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Game Help Night Oneself Pieces Play
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
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
Don’t cry upon your losses Don’t measure today with tomorows Don’t trust to be passed and coming day believe in now – and be happy today.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Believe Happiness Loss Present Trust Wisdom Yourself
The Stars are setting and the Caravan Starts for the Dawn of Nothing-Oh, make haste!
OMAR KHAYYAM

Morning Stars Start
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Fingers Move On Tears Writing
So when that Angel of the darker Drink, at last shall find you by the river-brink, And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul forth to your Lips to quaff-you shall not shrink.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Angel Darkness Lips River Soul Yourself
Myself 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 KHAYYAM

Doctor Greatness Myself Saint Young
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!
OMAR KHAYYAM

Distance Money
Ah 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 KHAYYAM

Desire Heart Life Love Sorry World
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

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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