_ر_د ا_د__ عطار

How arrogant you areTo think your wretched Self so singular!The disappointments of this world will dieIn less time than the blinking of an eye,And as the earth must pass, pass by the earth Don't even glance at it, know what it's worth;What empty foolishness it is to careFor what must one day be dispersed to air!

A Drunkard accuses a Drunkard...A sot became extremely drunk - his legsAnd head sank listless, weighed by wine's thick dregs.A sober neighbour put him in a sackAnd took him homewards hoisted on his back.Another drunk went stumbling by the first,Who woke and stuck his head outside and cursed."Hey, you, you lousy dipsomaniac,"He yelled as he was borne off in the sack,"If you'd had fewer drinks, just two or three,You would be walking now as well as me.

Mystics are not themselves. They do not existin selves. They move as they are moved,talk as words come, see with sightthat enters their eyes. I met a womanonce and asked her where love had led her.Fool, there's no destination to arrive at.Loved one and lover and love are infinite.