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Hearts are like tapers, which at beauteous eyes Kindle a flame of love that never dies; And beauty is a flame, where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.

Omar Khayyam

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 Flower that once has blown forever dies.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Death Flower Forever
To be free of belief and unbelief is my religion.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Belief Freedom Religion Thinking
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
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
Indeed 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 KHAYYAM

Glory Love Reputation Song Wisdom World Wrong
The Stars are setting and the Caravan Starts for the Dawn of Nothing-Oh, make haste!
OMAR KHAYYAM

Morning Stars Start
I hide my distress, just like the blessed birds hide themselves when they are preparing to die. Wine! Wine, roses, music and your indifference to my sadness, my loved-one!
OMAR KHAYYAM

Blessing Hide Music Myself Preparation Rose Sadness Wine
The thoughtful soul to solitude retires.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Solitude Soul Thinking
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
Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End!
OMAR KHAYYAM

Death Lying Sing
Dead yesterdays and unborn tomorrows, why fret about it, if today be sweet.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Born Death Future Past Present
Oh! My beloved! fill the cup, that clears to-day of past regrets and future fears.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Fear Future Love Past Regret Relationship Wine
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
A hair divides what is false and true.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Fake Hairs True Truth
Fools, your reward is neither here nor there.
OMAR KHAYYAM

Atheist Fools Reward

Hearts are like tapers, which at beauteous eyes Kindle a flame of love that never dies; And beauty is a flame, where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.

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Hearts are like tapers, which at beauteous eyes Kindle a flame of love that never dies; And beauty is a flame, where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.

Related Topics

Popular Authors

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