The Luzumiyat quotes

The secret of the day and night is in The constellations, which forever spin Around each other in the comet-dust;—

The comet-dust and humankind are kin.

But whether of dust or fire or foam, the glaive Of Allah cleaves the planet and the wave Of this mysterious Heaven-Sea of life, And lo! we have the Cradle of the Grave.

And from the last days of Thamud and ʻAd Up to the first of Hashem’s fearless lad, Who smashed the idols of his mighty tribe, What idols and what heroes Death has had!

Tread lightly, for the mighty that have been

Might now be breathing in the dust unseen; Lightly, the violets beneath thy feet Spring from the mole of some Arabian queen.

Tread lightly, for the mighty that have been Might now be breathing in the dust unseen; Lightly, the violets beneath thy feet

Spring from the mole of some Arabian queen.

Many a grave embraces friend and foe Behind the curtain of this sorry show Of love and hate inscrutable; alas! The Fates will always reap the while they sow.

And like a spider’s house or sparrow’s nest, The Sultan’s palace, though upon the crest Of glory’s mountain, soon or late must go:

Ay, all abodes to ruin are addrest.

So, too, the creeds of Man: the one prevails Until the other comes; and this one fails When that one triumphs; ay, the lonesome world Will always want the latest fairy-tales.

Seek not the Tavern of Belief, my friend, Until the Sakis there their morals mend;

A lie imbibed a thousand lies will breed,

And thou’lt become a Saki in the end.

The Earth then spake: “My children silent be;

Same are to God the camel and the flea:

He makes a mess of me to nourish you, Then makes a mess of you to nourish me.”

The Earth then spake: “My children silent be; Same are to God the camel and the flea:

He makes a mess of me to nourish you,

Then makes a mess of you to nourish me.”

Now, mosques and churches—even a Kaaba Stone, Korans and Bibles—even a martyr’s bone— All these and more my heart can tolerate,

For my religion ’s love, and love alone.

To humankind, O Brother, consecrate Thy heart, and shun the hundred Sects that prate About the things they little know about— Let all receive thy pity, none thy hate.

To humankind, O Brother, consecrate Thy heart, and shun the hundred Sects that prate About the things they little know about—

Let all receive thy pity, none thy hate.

The tavern and the temple also shun, For sheikh and libertine in sooth are one; And when the pious knave begins to pule, The knave in purple breaks his vow anon.

“What is thy faith and creed,” they ask of me, “And who art thou? Unseal thy pedigree.”—

I am the child of Time, my tribe, mankind,

And now this world’s my caravanseri.

Arise! for lo! the Laughter and the Weeping Reveal the Weapon which the Master’s keeping Above your heads; Oh! take it up and strike!

The lion of tyranny is only sleeping.

Evil and Virtue? Shadows on the street Of Fate and Vanity—but shadows meet When in the gloaming they are hast’ning forth To drink with Night annihilation sweet.

Allah, my sleep is woven through, it seems, With burning threads of night and golden beams; But when my dreams are evil they come true;

When they are not, they are, alas! but dreams.

The subtle ways of Destiny I know; In me she plays her game of “Give and Go.” Misfortune I receive in cash, but joy, In drafts on Heaven or on the winds that blow.

For me thy silks and feathers have no charm

The pillow I like best is my right arm;

The comforts of this passing show I spurn, For Poverty can do the soul no harm.

Whence does the nettle get its bitter sting? Whence do the honey bees their honey bring? Whence our Companions, too—our Whence and Why?

O Soul, I do not know a single thing!

How many like us in the ages past Have blindly soared, though like a pebble cast, Seeking the veil of mystery to tear, But fell accurst beneath the burning blast?