Culture

Every heart in which  the light of love shines– whether worshipper in a mosque or member of a church– and those who write their names in the book of passion are liberated from hell and free of paradise. Translated by Juan Cole from [pdf] Whinfield 58

I am not suited to the mosque nor fitted to the church The Lord knows  what he made my clay from. I am like an atheist mystic or an ugly prostitute: Neither religion nor worldliness, and no hope of paradise. Translared by Juan Cole from [pdf] Whinfield 58

My creed is to drink wine and be happy; my faith is to be devoid of unbelief and religion. I said to the bride of fate, “How big a diamond would you like?” She said, “My diamond is your joyous heart.” Translated by Juan Cole from [pdf] Whinfield 58

We are pagans of love; the orthodox are something else. We are like puny ants; the splendor of Solomon is something else. Our faces are sallow and our clothing is tattered; the fine linens at the boutique are something else. Translated by Juan Cole from [pdf] Whinfield 57

I spent a lifetime romancing with wine and roses, but none of my efforts ever went right; since none of my desires was fulfilled through wine, I’ve given up on what is past. Translated by Juan Cole from [pdf] Whinfield 56

Bartender, since fate has defeated you and me, and this world is not a dwelling for you and me; but given that we have a glass of wine in our midst know for sure that the truth is in your hand and mine. Translated by Juan Cole from [pdf] Whinfield 55

I was deep asleep when a wise man said to me, ‘The rose of joy never bloomed  for anyone from slumber! What are you doing?  Life is short! Hit the bar, since you’ll get  plenty of sleep when you’re six feet under. Translated by Juan Cole from Whinfield 51

If the heart knew the secret of life as it really is, it would also know, in death, the divine mysteries. Since you know nothing of yourself today, what will you know tomorrow when you’re gone from yourself? Translated by Juan Cole from Whinfield 52

You’ve seen the world, and all you’ve seen is nothing; and everything, as well,  that you have said and heard is nothing. You’ve sprinted everywhere between here and the horizon; it is nothing. And all the possessions you’ve treasured up at home are nothing. Translated by Juan Cole from Whinfield 50