Passion is the elixir that renews:
how can there be weariness
when passion is present?
Oh, don’t sigh heavily from fatigue:
seek passion, seek passion, seek passion!
Similar Posts
Quatrain 1693 (Farsi With English Translation)
ay sâqî, az-ân bâda ke awwal dâd-îriTlê dô dar andâz-o be-y-afzâ shâdîyâ châshniyê az-ân na-bâyast namûdyâ mast-o kharâb kon, chô sar be-g’shâd-î English Translation O cupbearer, from that wine which you first gave,Toss in two [more] cups worth and increase (my) happiness.Either a taste of it must not be made known,Or, if you have opened…
I am a sculptor, a molder of form.
But then, in front of you, I melt them downI can rouse a hundred formsand fill them with spirit,but when I look into your face,I want to throw them in the fire.My souls spills into yours and is blended.Because my soul has absorbed your fragrance,I cherish it.Every drop of blood I spillinforms the earth,I merge…
All Through Eternity
All through eternityBeauty unveils His exquisite formin the solitude of nothingness;He holds a mirror to His Faceand beholds His own beauty.he is the knower and the known,the seer and the seen;No eye but His ownhas ever looked upon this Universe. His every quality finds an expression:Eternity becomes the verdant field of Time and Space;Love, the…
Again I am raging,
bond you bind, I break, by your soul.I am like heaven, like the moon, like a candle by your glow;I am all reason, all love, all soul, by your soul.My joy is of your doing, my hangover of your thorn;whatever side you turn your face,I turn mine, by your soul.I spoke in error;it is not…
217
Man is surely like a lute, no more and no less;For if, for instance, the belly of the lute becomes full, nolament high or low will arise from that full lute.If your brain and belly are on fire through fasting, because ofthe fire every moment a lament will arise from your breast.Every moment you will…
There Is A Community Of Spirit
There is a community of the spirit.Join it, and feel the delightof walking in the noisy streetand being the noise.Drink all your passion,and be a disgrace.Close both eyesto see with the other eye.
Passion makes the old medicine new:
Passion lops off the bough of weariness.
Passion is the elixir that renews:
how can there be weariness
when passion is present?
Oh, don’t sigh heavily from fatigue:
seek passion, seek passion, seek passion!
Similar Posts
Home Burial – Poem by Robert Frost
He saw her from the bottom of the stairsBefore she saw him. She was starting down,Looking back over her shoulder at some fear.She took a doubtful step and then undid itTo raise herself and look again. He spokeAdvancing toward her: “What is it you seeFrom up there always? — for I want to know.”She turned…
Sonnet Lxxvii by William Shakespeare
Thy glass will show thee how thy beauties wear,Thy dial how thy precious minutes waste;The vacant leaves thy mind’s imprint will bear,And of this book this learning mayst thou taste.The wrinkles which thy glass will truly showOf mouthed graves will give thee memory;Thou by thy dial’s shady stealth mayst knowTime’s thievish progress to eternity.Look, what…
The Ravings Which My Enemy Uttered I Heard Within My Heart
The ravings which my enemy uttered I heard within my heart;the secret thoughts he harbored against me I also perceived.His dog bit my foot, he showed me much injustice; I do notbite him like a dog, I have bitten my own lip.Since I have penetrated into the secrets of individuals like menof God, why should…
The Bonfire – Poem by Robert Frost
OH, let’s go up the hill and scare ourselves,As reckless as the best of them to-night,By setting fire to all the brush we piledWith pitchy hands to wait for rain or snow.Oh, let’s not wait for rain to make it safe.The pile is ours: we dragged it bough on boughDown dark converging paths between the…
Reason says, “ I will beguile him with the tongue.”; Love says,
The soul says to the heart, “Go, do not laugh at me and yourself.What is there that is not his, that I may beguile himthereby?”He is not sorrowful and anxious and seeking oblivion that Imay beguile him with wine and a heavy measure.The arrow of his glance needs not a bow that I should beguilethe…
Misgiving – Poem by Robert Frost
All crying, ‘We will go with you, O Wind!’The foliage follow him, leaf and stem;But a sleep oppresses them as they go,And they end by bidding them as they go,And they end by bidding him stay with them. Since ever they flung abroad in springThe leaves had promised themselves this flight,Who now would fain seek…