Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam – What is my guilt, my destination set like this

Another translation of a rubaie from Omar Khayyam. In this rubaie, Omar blames his fates and suggests that the heavens determine his destination from the very beginning: the day of creation. The original poem in Persian is like this: آنروز که توسن فلک زین کردند و آرایش مشتری و پروین کردند این بود نصیب ما …

Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, Translation: I don’t know nor you, the eternal mysteries

I was enjoying reading poems of Omar Kheyyam. The copy I hold has translations for 5 different languages besides the original Persian. I didn't like the translation for English, because I believed it doesn't transfer the real meaning. So I did my own translation to English and share it here for my blog followers. Kindly …

I was not prepared for your love

I should have done my homework before You took the test of love and I failed I miscalculated the difficulties that may arise On the way that the destination was your love I discovered too late that you were so good That I should've prepared myself to be in level Now what can I do …

That was never enough

We thought it's enough For us forever To only have A perfect love A pure love That was never enough

He loved two!

He loved two! One usually left him at the sunset One came to him when moon was shining. He couldn't decide which one Was his real love The official one Or what was officially A forbidden love

They call themself humans

I know a strange creature Living on a far planet They need 18 orbits of the asteroid Around the star to get mature Yet after all these long periods Of nursing and learning and study Most of them they can't be like What they call themselves: humans!

I’m optimistic, still future seems grey

I tried go on a straight route all my life Never turning right or left, always in the middle On my way at end appears to be a beautiful scene But one side is dark another side is bright I'm optimistic but I wonder both are grey August 29, is my birthday. Thank you all …

Poetry is Painting, Painting is Poetry

Poetry is paintingWith the words To transfer a messageYou keep in mind To express emotionsYou hold deep in heart Painting is poetryWithout the words To transfer a messageCan't be told by words To express emotionsYou don't even know The extreme joy is whenYou combine the two

Sacrificing the present to go to the triumphant future

One sought all his lifeFor his goals and dreams He found most but not allStill he was know as a success But he personally felt sadDeep in his heart a regret For all things he sacrificedTo be where he had desired

Memories of those rosy lips

I can write books Full of love songs Only recalling Stories about kissing Those rosy lips of you.