Rubáiyát of Omar Khayy ́am: English, French, and German Translations Comparatively Arranged in Accordance with the Text of Edward Fitzgerald's Version, Том 1 |
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Appendix better Bodenstedt Book breath bring called clay comes copy Cowell dark death divine Door doubt drink dust earth edition English eternal existence eyes face faith Fate fire FitzGerald flowers Garner give gone hand head heart heaven Hell hope Human learned leave Lebens less light literature live look McCarthy mind Moon mystic nature never Nicolas night Omar Omar Khayyam Omar's once Oriental original Paradise pass Persian poem poet poetry present quatrains reads rest rose says Schack secrets seems sleep sorrow soul spring Sultan Tavern tell thee things third thou thought thousand tion to-day To-morrow translation true turn veil verse Wein wheel Whinfield wind wine wrote
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Страница cxxviii - But the souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and there shall no torment touch them. In the sight of the unwise they seemed to die: and their departure is taken for misery. And their going from us to be utter destruction: but they are in peace.
Страница clxxviii - 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 Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!
Страница xlviii - Oh threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain— This Life flies; One thing is certain and the rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.
Страница cxiv - Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake: For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man Is blacken'd — Man's forgiveness give — and take!
Страница 32 - 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.
Страница clxvii - Hair, they say, divides the False and True; Yes; and a single Alif were the clue — Could you but find it — to the Treasure-house, And peradventure to THE MASTER too...
Страница clix - 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 ! XII " How sweet is mortal Sovrainty ! " — think some ; Others " How blest the Paradise to come!
Страница clxiii - 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.
Страница clxi - 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...
Страница clxv - For I remember stopping by the way To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay: And with its all-obliterated Tongue It murmur'd — "Gently, Brother, gently, pray!