252.
I saw a busy potter by the way
Kneading with might and main a lump of clay;
And, lo! the clay cried, "Use me gently, pray;
I was a man myself but yesterday!"

 

271.
You ask what is this life so frail, so vain,
'Tis long to tell, yet will I make it plain;
'Tis but a breath blown from the vasty deeps,
And then blown back to those same deeps again!

 

327.
For Thee I vow to cast repute away,
And, if I shrink, the penalty to pay;
Though life might satisfy Thy cruelty,
'Twere naught, I'll bear it till the judgment-day!

 

 

346.
Never from worldly toils have I been free,
Never for one short moment glad to be!
I served a long apprenticeship to fate,
But yet of fortune gained no mastery.

 

380.
This silly sorrow-laden heart of mine
Is ever pining for that love of mine;
When the Cupbearer poured the wine of love,
With my heart's blood he filled this cup of mine!

 

405.
Friend! trouble not yourself about your lot,
Let futile care and sorrow be forgot;
Since this life's vesture crumbles into dust,
What matters stain of word or deed, or blot?

 

492.
O skyey wheel, all base men you supply
With baths, mills, and canals that run not dry, 

While good men have to pawn their goods for bread:

Pray, who would give a fig for such a sky?

 

500.
No longer hug your grief and vain despair,
But in this unjust world be just and fair;
And since the issue of the world is naught,
Think you are naught, and so shake off dull care! 

Omar Hajam: genialen mislec, pesnik ... meni je najbolj všeč tista o šahu ...