#English
75 I tell you this—when, started from… Over the flaming shoulders of the… Of Heav’n Parwin and Mushtari th… In my predestin’d Plot of Dust an…
Wake! For the Sun, who scattered… The Stars before him from the Fie… Drives Night along with them from… The Sultán’s Turret with a Shaft…
5 Iram indeed is gone with all his… And Jamshyd’s Sev’n—ring’d Cup w… But still a Ruby kindles in the V… And many a Garden by the Water bl…
72 And that inverted Bowl they call… Whereunder crawling cooped we liv… Lift not your hands to It for hel… As impotently moves as you or I.
76 The Vine had struck a fibre: whic… If clings my Being—let the Dervis… Of my Base metal may be filed a K… That shall unlock the Door he how…
11 With me along the strip of Herbag… That just divides the desert from… Where name of Slave and Sultan is… And Peace to Mahmud on his golden…
13 Some for the Glories of This Wor… Sigh for the Prophet’s Paradise t… Ah, take the Cash, and let the Cr… Nor heed the rumble of a distant…
10 Well, let it take them! What have… With Kaikobad the Great, or Kaik… Let Zal and Rustum bluster as the… Or Hatim call to Supper—heed not…
77 And this I know: whether the one… Kindle to Love, or Wrath—consume… One Flash of It within the Taver… Better than in the Temple lost ou…
71 The Moving Finger writes, and, ha… Moves on; nor all your Piety nor… Shall lure it back to cancel half… Nor all your Tears wash out a Wor…
12 A Book of Verses underneath the… A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread—a… Beside me singing in the Wilderne… Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow…
Before the phantom of False morni… Methought a Voice within the Tave… “When all the Temple is prepared… Why nods the drowsy Worshiper out…
Now the New Year reviving old De… The thoughtful Soul to Solitude r… Where the White Hand Of Moses on… Puts out, and Jesus from the Grou…
15 And those who husbanded the Golde… And those who flung it to the wind… Alike to no such aureate Earth ar… As, buried once, Men want dug up…
6 And David’s lips are lockt; but i… High—piping Pehlevi, with “Wine!… Red Wine!”—the Nightingale cries… That sallow cheek of hers t’ incar…
