“How strange and foolish is man. He loses his health in gaining wealth. Then, to regain his health he wastes his wealth. He ruins his present while worrying about his future, but weeps in the future by recalling his past. He lives as though death shall never come to him, but dies in a way as if he were never born”
―
―
“ما في المقامِ لذي عقلٍ وذي أدب
مِنْ رَاحَة ٍ فَدعِ الأَوْطَانَ واغْتَرِبِ
سافر تجد عوضاً عمَّن تفارقهُ
وَانْصِبْ فَإنَّ لَذِيذَ الْعَيْشِ فِي النَّصَبِ
إني رأيتُ وقوفَ الماء يفسدهُ
إِنْ سَال طَابَ وَإنْ لَمْ يَجْرِ لَمْ يَطِبِ
والأسدُ لولا فراقُ الأرض ما افترست
والسَّهمُ لولا فراقُ القوسِ لم يصب
والشمس لو وقفت في الفلكِ دائمة
لَمَلَّهَا النَّاسُ مِنْ عُجْمٍ وَمِنَ عَرَبِ
و البدر لولا أفول منه ما نظرت
إليه في كل حين عين مرتقب
والتَّبْرَ كالتُّرْبَ مُلْقَى في أَمَاكِنِه
والعودُ في أرضه نوعً من الحطب
فإن تغرَّب هذا عزَّ مطلبهُ
وإنْ تَغَرَّبَ ذَاكَ عَزَّ كالذَّهَبِِ”
―
مِنْ رَاحَة ٍ فَدعِ الأَوْطَانَ واغْتَرِبِ
سافر تجد عوضاً عمَّن تفارقهُ
وَانْصِبْ فَإنَّ لَذِيذَ الْعَيْشِ فِي النَّصَبِ
إني رأيتُ وقوفَ الماء يفسدهُ
إِنْ سَال طَابَ وَإنْ لَمْ يَجْرِ لَمْ يَطِبِ
والأسدُ لولا فراقُ الأرض ما افترست
والسَّهمُ لولا فراقُ القوسِ لم يصب
والشمس لو وقفت في الفلكِ دائمة
لَمَلَّهَا النَّاسُ مِنْ عُجْمٍ وَمِنَ عَرَبِ
و البدر لولا أفول منه ما نظرت
إليه في كل حين عين مرتقب
والتَّبْرَ كالتُّرْبَ مُلْقَى في أَمَاكِنِه
والعودُ في أرضه نوعً من الحطب
فإن تغرَّب هذا عزَّ مطلبهُ
وإنْ تَغَرَّبَ ذَاكَ عَزَّ كالذَّهَبِِ”
―
“سلام على الدنيا إذا لم يكن بها
صديق صدوق صادق الوعد منصفا”
―
صديق صدوق صادق الوعد منصفا”
―
“I loved Ophelia: forty thousand brothers
Could not, with all their quantity of love,
Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?...
'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:
Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?
Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?
I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?
To outface me with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick with her, and so will I:
And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
Millions of acres on us, till our ground,
Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,
I'll rant as well as thou.”
―
Could not, with all their quantity of love,
Make up my sum. What wilt thou do for her?...
'Swounds, show me what thou'lt do:
Woo't weep? woo't fight? woo't fast? woo't tear thyself?
Woo't drink up eisel? eat a crocodile?
I'll do't. Dost thou come here to whine?
To outface me with leaping in her grave?
Be buried quick with her, and so will I:
And, if thou prate of mountains, let them throw
Millions of acres on us, till our ground,
Singeing his pate against the burning zone,
Make Ossa like a wart! Nay, an thou'lt mouth,
I'll rant as well as thou.”
―
Khalil’s 2025 Year in Books
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