I come like Water, and like Wind I go.
Edward Fitzgerald (1809 - 1883)
Source: The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám, Persian writer & astronomer (c.1050–c.1123)
Contributed by: Zaady
Ah Love! could you and I with Him conspire To grasp this Sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits - and then Remold it nearer to the Heart's Desire!
After a momentary silence spake Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make; "They sneer at me for leaning all awry: What! did the Hand of the Potter shake?"
The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon Turns Ashes - or it prospers; and anon, Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face, Lighting a little hour or two - is gone.
'Tis all a Checkerboard of Nights and Days Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays: Hither and thither moves, and mates, and stays, And one by one back in the Closet lays.
The King in a carriage may ride, And the beggar may crawl at his side; But in the general race, They are traveling all the same pace.
The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.
One thing at least is certain - This life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is lies; The Flower that once has blown forever dies.
The moving finger writes; and having writ Moves on: not all your piety nor wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a line, Nor all your tears wash out a word of it.
And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die, Lift not your hands to It for help - for It As impotently rolls as you or I.
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