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Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youths sweet-scented Manuscript should close!

Omar Khayyam

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Omar Khayyam
Age: 83 †
Born: 1048
Born: May 15
Died: 1131
Died: December 4
Astrologer
Astronomer
Lyricist
Mathematician
Musician
Philosopher
Physicist
Poet
Writer
Neyshabur
Omar Khayyam
Hakim Omar Khayyám
Manuscript
Sweet
Manuscripts
Vanish
Alas
Rose
Spring
Scented
Close
Youths
Youth

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For in and out, above, about, below, 'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show, Played in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.
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There was a door to which I found no key: There was the veil through which I might not see.
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Into this universe, and why not knowing Nor whence, like water willy-nilly flowing And out of it, as wind along the wate, I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.
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A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.
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The Moving Finger writes and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
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If I don't enjoy myself now, when shall I?
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Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End!
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The Stars are setting and the Caravan Starts for the Dawn of Nothing-Oh, make haste!
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Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.
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Hearts are like tapers, which at beauteous eyes Kindle a flame of love that never dies And beauty is a flame, where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.
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The Flower that once has blown forever dies.
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Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate And many a Knot unravel'd by the Road But not the Master-knot of Human Fate.
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Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd Of the Two Worlds so wisely - they are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth their Words to Scorn Are scattered, and their mouths are stopped with Dust.
Omar Khayyam
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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.
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Tomorrow! - Why, tomorrow I may be Myself with yesterday's sev'n thousand years.
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I can’t reveal the mystery to either saint or sinner I can’t state at length what I’ve said curtly I achieve an altered state that I can’t explain I have a secret that I cannot share.
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Drink! For you know not whence you came nor why.
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And this I know whether the one True Light Kindle to Love, or Wrath consume me quite, One flash of it within the Tavern caught Better than in the temple lost outright.
Omar Khayyam
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Heaven has not learned of my arrival, and my departure will not in the least diminish it beauty and grandeur. I will sleep underground, for us ephemeral mortals, the only eternity is the moment and drinking to the moment is better than weeping for it.
Omar Khayyam
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Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum!
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