Omar Khayyám Quotes

Dedim: Artık bilgiden yana eksiğim yok;
Şu dünyanın sırrına ermişim az çok.
Derken aklım geldi başıma, bir de baktım:
Ömrüm gelip geçmiş, hiçbir şey bildiğim yok.

Sayfa :29

در کـارگـه کـوزه گـری بــودم دوش

دیـدم دو هزار کـوزه گـويا و خـموش

هــر يک به زبان حــال با مـن گفتند

کو کوزه گر و کوزه خر و کوزه فروش

Why ponder thus the future to foresee, and jade thy brain to vain perplexity? Cast off thy care, leave Allah’s plans to him – He formed them all without consulting thee.” Three Cups of Tea

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour — Well, I wonder often what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the stuff they sell.

این سبزه که امروز تماشاگه ماست
تا سبزه خاک ما تماشاگه کیست

Darnic ești și dărnicia știe daruri să împartă.
Dar de ce nelegiuiții lângă rai rămân la poartă?
De mă ierți doar prin credință, darul ăsta e zadarnic:
Iartă-mă și cu păcate, și atuncea, da, ești darnic!...

Today is the time of my youth
I drink wine because it is my solace;
Do not blame me, although it is bitter it is pleasant,
It is bitter because it is my life.

With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow; And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd — "I came like Water, and like Wind I go".

It is a shame for anyone
to be well-known for righteousness.
It is a great disgrace to feel
distress at the injustice of
the turning of the wheels of fate.

من بی می ناب زیستن نتوانم
بی باده کشید بار تن نتواتنم
من بنده آن دمم که ساقی گوید
یک جام دگر بگیر ومن نتوانم

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.

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

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.

Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the White Hand Of Moses on the Bough Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.

It’s too bad if a heart lacks fire,
and is deprived of the light
of a heart ablaze.
The day on which you are
without passionate love
is the most wasted day of your life.

Then to the lip of this poor earthen Urn I lean'd, the Secret of my Life to learn: And Lip to Lip it murmur'd — "While you live Drink! — for, once dead, you never shall return".