Sunday, October 14, 2007


What! no one reads on a sunday ?


My Rose, My Rose
My lovely Rose

'Tis too much, of fate ?

Fear not my rose
my lovely rose
for you I do not hate

It's not for fear of thorn
I retreat,
but a lack of things, my own.

A gentle touch is but a must,
the rest, they just won't do.

A die once cast,
cannot recant
or so an old man crows.

- SiegerKranz Meer

The denouement

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

- Omar Khayyam translated by Edward FitzGerald

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