Drunk With love by Omar Khayyam

How sad, a heart that
does not know how to love, that
does not know what it is to be drunk with love.
If you are not in love, how can you enjoy
the blinding light of the sun,
the soft light of the moon?
From"The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam"

The Rose of love by Omar khayyam

When you have planted the rose of Love into
your heart your life has not been in vain.

I value the lover's
sighs of happiness and I despise the hypocrite
mumbling his prayers.
Omar Khayyám

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.

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?

The heart which never glows with love by Omar Khayyám

Alas for that cold heart, which never glows
With love, nor e’er that charming madness knows;
The days misspent with no redeeming love;—
No days are wasted half as much as those!
Omar Khayyám

The famous Rubaiyat (Quatrains) of Omar Khayyam (Excerpt)

Music:
Mikis Theodorakis & Vassilis Saleas - Weeping Eyes

Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

The original in Farsi
(1048-1131)

“Ah Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
Would not we shatter it to bits -- and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!”

O listen, love, how all the builders sing!
O sap! O song! O green world blossoming!
White as the hand of Moses blooms the thorn,
Sweet as the breath of Jesus comes the spring.

I break one law, another law to keep;
The laws of death and hate I scorn to keep,
The law of Love that is the law of Life —
That is the only law I dare to keep.

O Love, I come to worship in your shrine
There is no part of you is not divine,
There is no part of you not human too
There is no part of you that is not mine ;

How sad, a heart that
does not know how to love, that
does not know what it is to be drunk with love.
If you are not in love,how can you enjoy
the blinding light of the sun,
the soft light of the moon?”

When you have planted
the rose of Love into your heart
your life has not been in vain.
I value the lover's sighs of happiness
and I despise the hypocrite mumbling his prayers.

Life is so short, yet sleeps thy lovely head;
Why make so soon a death-bed of thy bed?
love, awake! thy beauty wastes away--
Thou shalt sleep on and on when thou art dead.

Each day a leaf falls withered from the tree
Whose leaves make up the life of thee and me,
The leaves are counted and the last is there--
Ready to fall before thy destiny.

And fear not lest Existence closing your
Account, and mine, should know the like no more;
The Eternal Saki from that Bowl has pour'd
Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour.

Do you, within your little hour of Grace,
The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace,
Before the Mother back into her arms.
Fold, and dissolve you in a last embrace.

Hear from the spirit-world this mystery:
Creation is summed up, O man, in thee;
Angel and demon, man and beast art thou,
Yea, thou art all thou dost appear to be

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

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.

Every particle of dust on a patch of earth
Was a sun-cheek or brow of the morning star;
Shake the dust off your sleeve carefully--
That too was a delicate, fair face.

The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
Turns Ashes—or it prospers; and anon,
Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face
Lighting a little Hour or two—is gone.

Let not base avarice enslave thy mind,
Nor vain ambition in its trammels bind;
Be sharp as fire, as running water swift,
Not, like earth’s dust, the sport of every wind!

Let him rejoice who has a loaf of bread,
A little nest wherein to lay his head,
Is slave to none, and no man slaves for him—
In truth his lot is wondrous well bested

Dervish, take off that bright nice-coloured garb,
of which you are so proud, and which you didn't possess
at the time of your birth. Dress yourself instead in the
cloth of the poor. Passers-by may not greet you,
but you will hear the angels sing in your heart.

When you are so full of sorrow
that you can't walk, can't cry anymore,
think about the green foliage that sparkles after
the rain. When the daylight exhausts you, when
you hope a final night will cover the world,
think about the awakening of a young child.

Hearts with the light of love illumined well,
Whether in mosque or synagogue they dwell,
Have their names written in the book of love,
Unvexed by hopes of heaven or fears of Hell.

Did no fair rose my paradise adorn,
I would make shift to deck it with a thorn;
And if I lacked my prayer-mats, beads, and Shaikh,
Those Christian bells and stoles I would not scorn.

Diversity of worship has divided the human race
into seventy-two nations.From among all their dogmas,
I have selected one,Divine love.

Shrine of Love: From the Rubaiyat(Quatrains) of Omar Khayyam

O Love, I come to worship in your shrine,
There is no part of you is not divine,
There is no part of you not human too,
There is no part of you that is not mine;
Omar Khayyam

Hour of Grace: From the Rubaiyat(Quatrains) of Omar Khayyam

Do you, within your little hour of Grace,
The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace,
Before the Mother back into her arms.
Fold, and dissolve you in a last embrace.
Omar Khayyam