Your hand can seize today, but not tomorrow; and thoughts of your tomorrow are nothing but desire. Don’t waste this breath, if your heart isn’t crazy, since “the rest of your life” won’t last forever.
It’s too bad if a heart lacks fire,and is deprived of the light of a heart ablaze.The day on which you arewithout passionate loveis the most wasted day of your life.
Dead yesterdays and unborn tomorrows, why fret about it, if today be sweet.
In monasteries, seminaries, retreats and synagogues, they fear hell and seek paradise. Those who know the mysteries of God never let that seed be planted in their souls.
To wisely live your life, you don’t need to know muchJust remember two main rules for the beginning:You better starve, than eat whateverAnd better be alone, than with whoever.
Oh, come with old Khayyàm, and leave the Wise To talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies; One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown forever dies.
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor WitShall lure it back to cancel half a Line,Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
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
Wake! For the Sun, who scatter’d into flightThe Stars before him from the Field of Night,Drives Night along with them from Heav’n,and strikesThe Sultan’s Turret with a Shaft of Light
A book of verses underneath the boughA flask of wine, a loaf of bread and thouBeside me singing in the wildernessAnd wilderness is paradise now.
Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse – and ThouBeside me singing in the Wilderness -And Wilderness is Paradise enow.
Every particle of dust on a patch of earthWas a sun-cheek or brow of the morning star;Shake the dust off your sleeve carefully–That too was a delicate, fair face.
From the house of unbeliefto true religionis a single breath;From the world of doubtto certaintyis a single breath;Enjoy this precious single breath,for the harvestof our whole livesis that same one breath.
O friend, for the morrow let us not worryThis moment we have now, let us not hurryWhen our time comes, we shall not tarryWith seven thousand-year-olds, our burden carry
My tomb shall be in a spot where the north wind may scatter roses over it.
As far as you can avoid it, do not give grief to anyone. Never inflict your rage on another. If you hope for eternal rest, feel the pain yourself; but don’t hurt others.
It is a shame for anyoneto be well-known for righteousness.It is a great disgrace to feeldistress at the injustice of the turning of the wheels of fate.
My coming brought no profit to the sky,Nor does my going swell its glory;My two ears have never heard anyone that could say,Why I came here and why I will go away.
Now the New Year reviving old Desires,The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires.
The mighty Mahmúd, Allah-breathing Lord,That all the misbelieving and black HordeOf Fears and Sorrows that infest the SoulScatters before him with his whirlwind Sword.
Were it not Folly, Spider-like to spinThe Thread of present Life away to win-What? for ourselves, who know not if we shallBreathe out the very Breath we now breathe in!
The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.
Whether at Naishápúr or Babylon, Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.