Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám: The Astronomer-poet of PersiaThomas Y. Crowell Company, 1921 - 258 páginas |
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Términos y frases comunes
1859 The quatrain all-HE knows-HE knows and-sans End Ashes-or it prospers Bahrám Belovéd blows Bough Bowl but-Wine Caravanserai Cock crew Darkness didst divides the False divine drink False and True fill the Cup fire of Spring Fitzgerald flaming shoulders fling Flower that once flung Forgiveness give-and take Fourth Edition Garden Háfiz hand Hátim Heav'n Parwin Hell Herbage Jamshyd Kaikobád know how little Lip you press little hour live lovely Head LXVIII LXXII LXXIV LXXV Malik Shah mighty Mahmúd Morning Moving Finger Muezzin Naishápúr Night and Day Oh Thou Omar Khayyám Omar's once departed once lovely Persian Potter predestin'd Prophet's Paradise quatrain printed Ramazán red The Rose Repentance return'd reveal'd Ringdove round Rubáiyát Sev'n Spring Stanza Súfi Sultán ta'en Tavern shouted-"Open THEE Throne of Saturn TO-DAY To-morrow Turns Ashes-or twas-the Grape Veil Vessel Vintage whence Whither Wilderness is Paradise willy-nilly Wind Wine!"-the Nightingale cries XLVIII Yesterday
Pasajes populares
Página 88 - Nay but, O man, who art thou that repliest against God? Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me thus? Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour?
Página 63 - They say the Lion and the Lizard keep The courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep: And Bahrain, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.
Página 44 - Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, Before we too into the Dust descend: Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and — sans End!
Página 64 - I sometimes think that never blows so red The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; That every Hyacinth the Garden wears Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head.
Página 64 - And we, that now make merry in the Room They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom, Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth Descend — ourselves to make a Couch — for whom?
Página 45 - Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument About it and about : but evermore Came out by the same Door as in I went.
Página 46 - Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate I 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.
Página 64 - Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears TO-DAY of past Regrets and Future Fears: To-morrow.'— Why, To-morrow I may be Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years.
Página 125 - There was the Door to which I found no Key ; There was the Veil through which I could not see : Some little talk awhile of ME and THEE There was — and then no more of THEE and ME.
Página 105 - A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness — Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!