Tuesday, May 23, 2017

From The Rubaiyat/The Quatrains of Omar Khayyam/Part II

Music: Farid Farjad - Robabeh Jan


From The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

The bird of life is singing on the bough
His two eternal notes of “I and Thou”—
O! hearken well, for soon the song sings through,
And, would we hear it, we must hear it now.

The bird of life is singing in the sun,
Short is his song, nor only just begun,—
A call, a trill, a rapture, then—so soon!—
A silence, and the song is done—is done.

Yea! What is man that deems himself divine?
Man is a flagon, and his soul the wine;
Man is a reed, his soul the sound therein;
Man is a lantern, and his soul the shine.

Would you be happy! hearken, then, the way:
Heed not To-morrow, heed not Yesterday;
The magic words of life are Here and Now—
O fools, that after some to-morrow stray!

Were I a Sultan, say what greater bliss
Were mine to summon to my side than this,—
Dear gleaming face, far brighter than the moon!
O Love! and this immortalizing kiss.

To all of us the thought of heaven is dear—
Why not be sure of it and make it here?
No doubt there is a heaven yonder too,
But ’tis so far away—and you are near.

God, perchance, the secret word might spell;
If God be, He keeps His secret well;
What He hath hidden, who shall hope to find?
Shall God His secret to a maggot tell?

So since with all my passion and my skill,
The world’s mysterious meaning mocks me still,
Shall I not piously believe that I
Am kept in darkness by the heavenly will?

And do you think that unto such as you,
A maggot-minded, starved, fanatic crew,
God gave the Secret, and denied it me?—
Well, well, what matters it! believe that too.

O City Mufti, you go more astray
Than I do, though to wine I do give way;
I drink the blood of grapes, you that of men:
Which of us is the more bloodthirsty, pray?

Old Khayyám, say you, is a debauchee;
If only you were half so good as he!
He sins no sins but gentle drunkenness,
and great-hearted mirth.

But yours the cold heart, and the murderous tongue,
The wintry soul that hates to hear a song,
The close-shut fist, the mean and measuring eye,
And all the little poisoned ways of wrong.

So I be written in the Book of Love,
I have no care about that book above;
Erase my name, or write it, as you please—
So I be written in the Book of Love.

Saturday, May 20, 2017

From Rubaiyat/Quatrains of Omar Khayyam

Rubaiyat
Music:
Tears Of Roses-Aci Hayat



Selected Quotes
From The Quatrains of Omar Khayyam

My true condition I may thus explain
In two short verses which the whole contain:
“From love to Thee I now lay down my life,
In hope Thy love will raise me up again.”

I close the door of hope in my own face,
Nor sue for favors from good men, or base;
I have but One to lend a helping hand—
He knows, as well as I, my sorry case.

O Lord! from self-conceit deliver me,
Sever from self, and occupy with Thee!
This self is captive to earth’s good and ill,
Make me beside myself, and set me free!

Make light to me the world’s oppressive weight,
And hide my failings from the people’s hate,
And grant me peace to-day, and on the morrow
Deal with me as Thy mercy may dictate!

What eye can pierce the veil of God’s decrees,
Or read the riddle of earth’s destinies?
Pondered have I for years threescore and ten,
But still am baffled by these mysteries.

Nor you nor I can read the etern decree,
To that enigma we can find no key;
They talk of you and me behind the veil,
But, if that veil be lifted, where are we?

I drown in sin—show me Thy clemency!
My soul is dark—make me Thy light to see!
A heaven that must be earned by painful works,
I call a wage, not a gift fair and free.

We rest our hopes on Thy free grace alone,
Nor seek by merits for our sins to atone;
Mercy drops where it lists, and estimates
Ill done as undone, good undone as done.


O Thou who givest sight to emmet’s eyes,
And strength to puny limbs of feeble flies,
To Thee we will ascribe Almighty power,
And not base, unbecoming qualities.

My body’s life and strength proceed from Thee!
My soul within and spirit are of Thee!
My being is of Thee, and Thou art mine,
And I am Thine, since I am lost in Thee!

This is the form Thou gavest me of old,
Wherein Thou workest marvels manifold;
Can I aspire to be a better man,
Or other than I issued from Thy mold?

Thursday, May 18, 2017

Where shall we get religion? by Sam Walter Foss


Where shall we get religion? Beneath the open sky,
the sphere of crystal silence surcharged with deity.
The midnight earth sends incense up, sweet with
the breath of prayer.Go out beneath the naked
night and get religion there.
Sam Walter Foss

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

Book of your Life


Open your book of life only to few people.
Because in this world very few care to
understand the chapters,others are just
curious to know.

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Love OF Life by Friedrich Nietzsche


And to my thinking as a lover of life, butterflies, soap-bubbles,
and whatever is of their kind among men, know most of happiness.
To see these light, foolish, delicate, mobile little souls flitting
about—that moveth Zarathustra to tears and to song.
Friedrich Nietzsche" Thus Spake Zarathustra"

To recover a sense of reality is to recover the truth by Nikolai Berdyaev


We live in a nightmare of falsehoods, and there are few who
are sufficiently awake and aware to see things as they are.

Our first duty is to clear away illusions and recover a sense
of reality. If war should come, it will do so on account of our
delusions, for which our hag-ridden conscience attempts
to find moral excuses.

To recover a sense of reality is to recover the truth
about ourselves and the world in which we live, and thereby
to gain the power of keeping this world from flying asunder.
Nikolai Berdyaev

Monday, May 15, 2017

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