“They say the Lion and the Lizard keep The Courts where Jamshýd gloried and drank deep: And Bahrám, that great Hunter--the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.”

“I see a horseman disappearing intothe evening mist. Will he travel through woodsor across wild plains? Where is he heading? I don't know.Tomorrow, will I be stretched out above orbelow the earth? I don't know.”

“Why was I born, when will I die?Who can change the day of his birth,who has a say in the day of his death?Come, my beloved, I want to ask the spiritof the wine to make me forget that weshall never understand.”

“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.”

“Then said another -- "Surely not in vain My Substance from the common Earth was ta'en, That He who subtly wrought me into Shape Should stamp me back to common Earth again.”

“I sometimes think that never blows so redThe Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;That every Hyacinth the Garden wearsDropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head.”

“What shall I do, today? Visit the pub?Sit down in a garden with a book? A birdflies past. Where is it headed? It's out ofsight already. The drunkenness of a bird in theburning azure. The melancholy of a manin the cool shadow of a mosque.”