除了昨天带来的东西，别无所求，白天和黑夜呼唤现在。-----大海永远在流动，陆地永远不保留它。-----人啊，趁天还晴朗，动起来吧;无人能快速工作的黑夜临近了。-----当沉重的叹息，认为帮助和希望已经过去，听到了治愈的力量，充满安慰的话语。-----我的产业何其辽阔，何其荣耀，何其崇高!时间是我的财产，我开垦的土地是时间!----- UNWARY说——从来没有一个人比他更真实;他知道，最深的心灵，最高的头脑——“在任何地方，任何时候，你都会发现有用的正直，公正，仁慈是永远不变的。”-----虽然受到东方太阳庇佑的吟游诗人比我们住在西方的吟游诗人更伟大，但我们发现，在憎恨那些与我们地位相等的人。 In this we're not in the least behind. ----- WOULD we let our envy burst, Feed its hunger fully first! To keep our proper place, We'll show our bristles more; With hawks men all things chase, Except the savage boar. ----- BY those who themselves more bravely have fought A hero's praise will be joyfully told. The worth of man can only be taught By those who have suffer'd both heat and cold. ----- "WHEREFORE is truth so far from our eyes, Buried as though in a distant land?" None at the proper moment are wise! Could they properly understand, Truth would appear in her own sweet guise, Beauteous, gentle, and close at hand. ----- WHY these inquiries make, Where charity may flow? Cast in the flood thy cake,-- Its eater, who will know? ----- ONCE when I a spider had kill'd, Then methought: wast right or wrong? That we both to these times should belong, This had God in His goodness willed. ----- MOTLEY this congregation is, for, lo! At the communion kneel both friend and foe. ----- IF the country I'm to show, Thou must on the housetop go. ----- A MAN with households twain Ne'er finds attention meet, A house wherein two women reign Is ne'er kept clean and neat. ----- BLESS, thou dread Creator, Bless this humble fane; Man may build them greater,-- More they'll not contain. ----- LET this house's glory rise, Handed to far ages down, And the son his honour prize. As the father his renown. ----- O'ER the Mediterranean sea Proudly hath the Orient sprung; Who loves Hafis and knows him, he Knows what Caldron hath sung. ----- IF the ass that bore the Saviour Were to Mecca driven, he Would not alter, but would be Still an ass in his behavior. ----- THE flood of passion storms with fruitless strife 'Gainst the unvanquished solid land.-- It throws poetic pearls upon the strand, And thus is gain'd the prize of life. ----- WHEN so many minstrels there are, How it pains me, alas, to know it! Who from the earth drives poetry far? Who but the poet!