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Hark! Feed me wine, if you really care Turn into ruby my face of amber Bathe me in wine when death me ensnare With boards of vine my coffin bear. |
An old potter at his wheel Clay and dirt mould and deal My inner eye would reveal My father’s dust bears his seal. |
Once transpired, cannot be changed Only pain will come if remorse engaged Though with sorrow you may be aged Not even a dot will be rearranged. |
Each drop of wine that is spilt Burnt deep in my heart and sorrow built I drink wine while prayer thou wilt The water that quenched the fire of my guilt. |
Alas the youthful fire is a dying ember The spring of life has reached December What is termed youth, I vaguely remember But know not whence and how from life’s chamber. |
In the cosmic game of polo you are the ball The mallet’s left and right becomes your call He who causes your movements, your rise and fall He is the one, the only one, who knows it all. |
From the depths of earth to heights of Saturn We’ve solved all riddles, turn after turn Break every chain, our ignorance burn Except the riddle that fills the urn. |
Tonight I shall embrace a gallon cup With at least two cups of wine I‘ll sup I’ll divorce my mind and religion stop With daughter of vine, all night I’ll stay up. |
Wherever you go in the land of God Flowers bloom from kingly blood Violet with its colorful shroud Was a beauty mole on a face once proud. |
Beloved friends let us gather For each other, together care With raised cups salute and share In memory of he who isn’t there. |
The grass that grows by every stream Like angelic smiles faintly gleam Step gently, cause it not to scream For it has grown from a lover’s dream. |
Those who went in pursuit of knowledge Soared up so high, stretched the edge Were still encaged by the same dark hedge Brought us some tales ere life to death pledge. |
Once upon a time, in a potter’s shop I saw two thousand clay pot and cup Suddenly a lone pot cried out, "stop! Where the vendor, buyer, where my prop?" OR To a pottery I went by chance Two thousand pots I saw in a glance Cried out a pot awakened from trance "whither potter, vendor and buyer prance?" |
We are the puppets and fate the puppeteer This is not a metaphor, but a truth sincere On this stage, fate for sometime our moves steer Into the chest of non-existence, one by one disappear. |
The signs of what’s to come has always been Has always written both benevolent and mean What is our lot was given by the hand unseen With futility we try, exert, weep or keen. |
This clay pot like a lover once in heat A lock of hair his senses did defeat The handle that has made the bottleneck its own seat Was once the embrace of a lover that entreat. |
The sun with its morning light the earth ensnare The king celebrated the day with a wine so fair The herald of dawn intoxicated would blare Its fame and aroma, for time having not a care. |
| اکنون ساعت 01:07 PM برپایه ساعت جهانی (GMT - گرینویچ) +3.5 می باشد. |
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استفاده از مطالب پی سی سیتی بدون ذکر منبع هم پیگرد قانونی ندارد!! (این دیگه به انصاف خودتونه !!)
(اگر مطلبی از شما در سایت ما بدون ذکر نامتان استفاده شده مارا خبر کنید تا آنرا اصلاح کنیم)