I started reading Omar Khayyam’s poetry when I wandered in an old book shop in Islamabad. Its cover was torn and the pages were brown with age. I randomly opened a page and this was there:
Ah love! Could Thou and I with fate conspire
To grip this sorry scheme of things entire,
Would we not shatter it to bits-and then
Re-mold it nearer to heart’s desire
Ah! Moon of my delight who know’st no wane,
The moon if heav’n is rising once again:
How oft hereafter rising shall she look
Through this same garden after me-In vain!
And when thyself with shining foot shall pass
Among the guest star-scattered on the grass
Where I made one-Turn down an empty glass
I absolutely love how the words play with the emotions of a person while telling a story. I hope I can read more of this to help me understand the dimensions of poetry and Literature in that era.
Beyond Sanity Publishing
Beyond Sanity Publishing 