"And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour---well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the Goods they sell."
Omar Khayyam
Hafez wrote: "In a garden renew your Zoroastrian faith In the monastery of the Magi, why they honor us, The fire that never dies, burns in our hearts. "
and this one, but off the top of my head i can't rememebr the author, and i think my version of it is a bit wrong, but none the less i think i like my version better lol
O Lord! devise a means, whereby in safety my beloved May come back and release me from the claw of reproach Bring me the dust of the path of that traveled beloved That I may make my world-seeing eye her sojourn place Justice! For, they have barred my path on six sides.
Today, when I am in your hand, show a little mercy tomorrow, when I become clay, what profit are tears of repentance? O thou that of love expressest breath in relating and explaining, With thee no word have we save this "prosperity and safety by thine!" Darvish! lament not of the sword of friends, For this band takenth the blood-price for the slain Set fire to the religious garment, for the curve of the Saki's eye-brow Shattereth the corner of the prayer-arch of the service of the imam God forbid that of your violence and thranny I should bewail The injustice of dainty ones is all daintiness and goodness. The argument of your tress-tip, Hafiz shorteneth not: This chain is joined to the day of resurrection.
By Hafez, one of my favs
Never under estimate the predictablity of stupidity! - Bullet Tooth Tony
I die ever time you scream my name, a little more, take my hand and squeeze it a little more and watch me die even more, scream my name and watch me die a some more, hold me tight, kiss me some more and watch me die!
I stand in wake for thee, watch the waters gentle caressment of the shore, in wait for thee I stand, as the clouds holds tight over the moon I stand and wait for thee. I die every minute I stand in wait for thee. Alas I will die a 1000 deaths in wait for the, as I stand in wait for thee.
Every morning I see your face, smiling at me, I long for thee, I see ye in my dreams, you haunt me in my every step. I see you in the pale moon, your hair glistens as the silver light of the moons sweeps over the land with its silky glow. The distance is closed in seconds, when you come, embrass me my beloved, give me the kiss that seals my fate. Give me the embrase that you taunt me with, teased me with, that dark embrase, kiss me with those blood red lips that we may be in bliss once more, how you have taunted me so many times in my life with this kiss. Kiss me and let me fade into the void, that kiss of nothingness. Embrace me and never let go, let us slip into the darkness and never be known.
Edited by Rakhsh
Never under estimate the predictablity of stupidity! - Bullet Tooth Tony
If you can keep your head when all about you Are losing theirs and blaming it on you; If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, But make allowance for their doubting too; If you can wait and not be tired by waiting, Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies, Or, being hated, don't give way to hating, And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream - and not make dreams your master; If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim; If you can meet with triumph and disaster And treat those two imposters just the same; If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools, Or watch the things you gave your life to broken, And stoop and build 'em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss, And lose, and start again at your beginnings And never breath a word about your loss; If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew To serve your turn long after they are gone, And so hold on when there is nothing in you Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on";
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with kings - nor lose the common touch; If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you; If all men count with you, but none too much; If you can fill the unforgiving minute With sixty seconds' worth of distance run - Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it, And - which is more - you'll be a Man my son!
Whose woods these are I think I know. His house is in the village, though; He will not see me stopping here To watch his woods fill up with snow. My little horse must think it queer To stop without a farmhouse near Between the woods and frozen lake The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake To ask if there is some mistake. The only other sound's the sweep Of easy wind and downy flake. The woods are lovely, dark and deep, But I have promises to keep, And miles to go before I sleep, And miles to go before I sleep.
I want a man who's handsome, smart and strong. One who loves to listen long, One who thinks before he speaks, One who'll call, not wait for weeks. I want him to be gainfully employed, And when I spend his cash, he not be annoyed. Pulls out my chair and opens my door, Massages my back and begs to do more. Oh! For a man who makes love to my mind, and knows what to answer to "how big is my behind?" I want this man to love me to no end, And always be my very best friend
So true...that's most women's dream man.
Here's one that I've liked since the first time I read it:
If I Could
My friend,
if I could give you
one thing,
I would give you
the ability to see
yourself
as others see you
then you would realize
what a truly special
person
you are.
(Barbara A. Billings)
I've sent it to a couple of my best friends, since it so perfectly describes how I feel about them.
Don't put your mouth into motion before your brain is in gear.
Member of "the exclusive group of women on AE".
She walks in Beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express, How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!
If thou must love me, let it be for nought Except for love's sake only. Do not say "I love her for her smile--her look--her way Of speaking gently,--for a trick of thought That falls in well with mine, and certes brought A sense of pleasant ease on such a day" - For these things in themselves, Beloved, may Be changed, or change for thee,--and love, so wrought, May be unwrought so. Neither love me for Thine own dear pity's wiping my cheeks dry, - A creature might forget to weep, who bore Thy comfort long, and lose thy love thereby! But love me for love's sake, that evermore Thou may'st love on, through love's eternity
"Invicitus"
William Earnst Henley
Out of the night that covers me, black as the pit from pole to pole. I thank whatever gods may be for my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears, looms but the horror of the shade, and yet the menace of the years finds, and shall find me, unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate; I am the captain of my soul.
Both quite well known, but nice nevertheless.
Peace, Goodwill, and Seasonal Greetings to Everyone
Is true. The women, like unto the stars, Are jealous also. Two young virgins met The day I saw them, a sad day for them, For one was jealous of the other one. The citizeness said to the Bedouine: "Look at thy similars and thou shalt see In them but rustics, true dogs of the camp. Now what art thou beside a city girl? Thou art a Bedouine. Dost thou not dream Of goat-skin bottles to be filled at dawn? And loads of wood that thou must daily cut? And how thou'rt doomed to turn the mill all night, Fatigued, harassed? Thy feet, unshod, are chapped And full of cracks. Thy head can never feel The solace of uncovering, and thou, All broken with fatigue, must go to sleep Upon the ground, in soot and dust to lie, Just like a serpent coiled upon himself. Thy covering is the tatters of old tents, Thy pillow is the stones upon the hearth. All clad in rags thou hast a heavy sleep Awaking to another stupid day. Such is the life of all you country folk. What art thou then compared to those who live In shade of walls, who have their mosques for prayer Where questions are discussed and deeds are drawn?" The Arab woman to the city girl Replied: "Get out! Thou'rt like a caverned owl. And who art thou beside the Arab girls, The daughters of those tribes whose standards wave Above brave bands of horsemen as they speed? Look at thy similars. The doctor ne'er Can leave their side. Without an illness known They're faded, pale, and sallow. The harsh lime Hath filled thy blood with poison. Thou art dead, Although thou seem'st alive. Thou ne'er hast seen Our noble Arabs and their feats of strength, Who to the deserts bring prosperity By their sharp swords! If thou could'st see our tribe When all the horsemen charge a hostile band, Armed with bright lances and with shields to break The enemy's strong blow! Those who are like To them are famed afar and glorified. They're generous hosts and men of nature free. Within the mosques they've built and lodgings made For tolba and for guests. All those who come To visit them, bear gifts away, and give Them praises. Why should they reside in town Where everything's with price of silver bought?" The city girl replied: "Oh, Bedouine, Thou dost forget all that thou hast to do. Thou go'st from house to house, with artichokes And mallows, oyster-plants, and such, Thy garments soaked all through and through with grease. This is thy daily life. I do not speak Of what is hid from view. Thy slanders cease! What canst thou say of me? Better than thee I follow all the precepts of the Sonna And note more faithfully the sacred hours. Hid by my veil no eye hath seen my face: I'm not like thee, forever in the field. I've streets to go on when I walk abroad. What art thou, then, beside me? I heard not The cows and follow them about all day. Thou eatest sorrel wild and heart of dwarf Palm-tree. Thy feet are tired with walking far, And thy rough hands with digging in the earth." "Now what impels you, and what leads you on," The country girl of city girl inquired, "To outrage us like this and say such words Against us, you who are the very worst Of creatures, in whom all the vices are Assembled? You are wicked sinners all, And Satan would not dare to tell your deeds. You are all witches. And you would betray Your brother, not to speak of husbands. You Walk all unguarded in the street alone, Against your husband's will. And you deny Your holy faith. The curse of heav'n will weigh Upon you when you go to meet your God. Not one of you is honest. O ye blind Who do not wish to see, whence comes your blindness? You violate the law divine, and few Among you fear the Lord. 'Tis in the country, Amid the fields, that women worship God. Why say'st thou that the city women sole Are pious? Canst thou say my prayers for me?" "What pleasure have the country girls?" replied The city girl. "They've no amusements there. There's nothing to divert the eyes. Their hands They do not stain with henna, setting off A rounded arm. Rich costumes they wear not, Which cost some hundred silver pieces each, Nor numerous garments decked with precious stones. They are not coifed with kerchiefs of foulard With flowers brocaded. Neither have they veils Nor handkerchiefs of silk and broidered gold. They never have a negress nurse to bring Their children up and run on services Throughout the house. And yet they boast as loud As any braggart. Why bring'st thou the charge That I a blameful life do lead, whilst thine Deserves reproof? Dirt in the country holds Supreme control. The water's scarce enough To drink, with none left for the bath. The ground Serves you as bed, and millet is your food, Or rotten wheat and barley." Then took up The word, and spoke the Arab woman dark: "Who are thy ancestors? Which is thy tribe Among all those that fill the mighty world? You're only Beny Leqyt, and the scum Of people of all sorts. Thou call'st thyself A city woman. What are city men? Thy lords don't slander folk. 'Tis only those Who come whence no one knows who have so rude A tongue. Thou wouldst insult me, thou, of stock Like thine, with such a name abroad! And thou Wouldst taunt a Qorechyte, a Hachemite Of glorious ancestors who earned their fame. Tis proper for a woman born of such A stock illustrious to vaunt herself Upon her origin. But thou, a vile Descendant of a conquered race! "Thou call'st Thyself a Sunnite, yet thou knowest not The three great things their Author gave to us: (He knows all secrets.) First is Paradise, Then the Koran, and then our Prophet great, Destroyer of false faiths and for all men The interceder. Whosoe'er loves him Doth love the Arabs, too, and cleaves to them. And whosoe'er hates them hates, too, in truth, The chosen one of God. Thou hatest him, For thou revil'st my ancestors, and seek'st To lower their rank and vilify their fame. Think on thine evil deeds, against the day When in thy grave thou'lt lie, and that one, too, When thou shalt rise again, insulter of The Arabs, king of peoples on the earth." "The Arabs I do not at all despise," The city woman said, "nor yet decry Their honor, and 'tis only on account Of thee I spoke against them. But 'tis thou Who hast insulted all my family, and placed Thy race above. He who begins is e'er At fault, and not the one who follows. Thou The quarrel didst commence. Pray God, our Lord, To pardon me, as I will pray him, too, And I the Arabs will no more attack. If they offend me I will pardon them And like them for our holy prophet's sake. I shall awake in Paradise some day. From them 'tis given, far beyond all price. Frankly, I love them more than I do love Myself. I love them from my very heart. He who a people loveth shall arise With them. And here's an end to all our words Of bickering and mutual abuse." I told them that it was my duty plain To reconcile them. I accorded both Of them most pure intentions. Then I sent Them home, and made agreeable the way. Their cares I drove away with honeyed words. I have composed the verses of this piece, With sense more delicate than rare perfume Of orange-flower or than sugar sweet, For those kind hearts who know how to forgive. As for the evil-minded, they should feel The zeqqoum. With the flowers of rhetoric My song is ornamented: like the breast Of some fair virgin all bedecked with stones Which shine like bright stars in the firmament. Some of its words will seem severe to those Who criticise. I culled them like unto A nosegay in the garden of allusions. May men of lion hearts and spirit keen-- Beloved by God and objects of his care-- Receive my salutations while they live, My countless salutations. I should let My name be known to him who's subject to The Cherfa and obeys their mighty power. The mym precedes, then comes the written ha. The mym and dal complete the round and make It comprehensible to him who reads Mahomet. May God pardon me this work So frivolous, and also all my faults And errors. I place confidence in him, Creator of all men, with pardon free For all our sins, and in his mercy trust, Because he giveth it to him who seeks. The country girl and city girl appeared Before the judge, demanding sentence just. In fierce invectives for a while they joined, But after all I left them reconciled.
Give to me the life I love, Let the lave go by me, Give the jolly heaven above And the byway nigh me. Bed in the bush with stars to see, Bread I dip in the river There's the life for a man like me; There's the life for ever.
Let the blow fall soon or late, Let what will be o'er me; Give the face of earth around And the road before me. Wealth I seek not, hope nor love, Nor a friend to know me; All I seek, the heaven above And the road below me.
Or let autumn fall on me Where afield I linger, Silencing the bird on tree, Biting the blue finger. White as meal the frosty field - Warm the fireside haven - Not to autumn will I yield, Not to winter even!
Let the blow fall soon or late, Let what will be o'er me; Give the face of earth around, And the road before me. Wealth I ask not, hope nor love, Nor a friend to know me; All I ask the heaven above, And the road below me.
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