“There was a Door to which I found no KeyThere was a Veil past which I could not seeSome little Talk awhile of ME and THEEThere seemed--and then no more of THEE and ME.”

“But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with meThe Quarrel of the Universe let be: And, in some corner of the Hubbub couch'd,Make Game of that which makes as much of Thee.”

“You say some Greek philosophers could dazzle their audienceswith their riddles? That does not interest me at all. Bringmore wine instead and play your lute; your changes in tonesremind me of the wind that rushes past and disappears,just like us.”

“Youth, like a magic bird, has flown awayHe sang a little morning-hour in MaySang to the rose, his love, that too is gone--Whither is more than you or I can say.”

“There are too many tears in my eyes!The fires of Hell are no more than sparks of fireas compared to the flames that consume me inside.Paradise? For me it meansa moment of peace.”

“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”

“A piece of bread,some fresh water,the shadow of a tree and your eyes, my beloved.No sultan is happier than me,no beggar more sad.”