Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 48
I saw bouquets of fresh roses
Tied upon a cupola of grass.
I asked: ‘What is despicable grass
To sit also in the line of the roses?’
The grass wept and said: ‘Hush!
Companionship does not obliterate nobility.
Although I have no beauty, colour and perfume,
Am I not after all the grass of his garden?
I am the slave of a bountiful lord,
Cherished from old by his liberality.
Whether I possess virtue or not
I hope for grace from the Lord
Although I possess no property
No capital to offer as obedience.
He knows the remedy for the slave
To whom no support remains.
It is customary that the owner gives a writ
Of emancipation to an old slave.
O God, who hast adorned the universe,
Be bountiful to thy old slave.’
Sa’di, take the road to the Ka’bah of submission.
O man of God, follow the way of God.
Unlucky is he who turns his head
Away from this door for he will find no other door.
Related quotes
Ch 07 On The Effects Of Education Story 16
A pious man happened to pass near a rich fellow who had a slave and was just chastising him after having tied his feet and hands. He said: ‘My son, God the most high and glorious has given a creature like thyself into thy power and has bestowed upon thee superiority over him. Give thanks to the Almighty and do not indulge in so much violence towards the man because it is not meet that in the morn of resurrection he should be better than thyself and put thee to shame.’
Be not much incensed against a slave.
Oppress him not, grieve not his heart.
Thou hast purchased him for ten dirhems
And hast not after all created him by thy power.
How long is this command, pride and power to last?
There is a Master more exalted than thou.
O thou owner of Arslan and of Aghosh,
Do not forget him who is thy commander.
There is a tradition that the prince of the world, upon whom be the benediction of Allah and peace, has said: ‘It will occasion the greatest sorrow on the day of resurrection when a pious worshipper is conveyed to paradise and a lord of profligacy to hell.’
Upon the slave subject to thy service
Vent not boundless anger but treat him gently
Because on the day of reckoning it will be a shame
To see the slave free and his owner in chains.
The good man, though a slave, is free; the wicked, though he reigns, is a slave, and not the slave of a single man, but — what is worse — the slave of as many masters as he has vices.
quote by Saint Augustine
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Slave Nation
my allegation
its alright
slave nation
alright
want to tell ya
all is gone
you're a slave nation
right or wrong
tell
oh
take a moment to tell
oh
slave nation
its alright
you're a slave nation
oh my
its cool
its fine
slave nation
alright
tell
tell
tell me not to tell
wanna tell
slave nation
slave nation
slave nation
slave nation
its alright
isolation
right
oh?
its alright
its alright
its alright
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song performed by by Simple Minds
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A slave
To my lady love, I am a slave;
To my little kid, I am a slave;
To tobacco, I am a slave.
Being a slave is being in grave.
23.102011
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Other Self
I am your slave, desire,
I am your slave, pride,
I am your slave, vice,
I am your slave, success.
Get rid of desire, desire said,
Get rid of pride, pride said,
Get rid of vices, honor said,
Get rid of competition, success said.
I will still be the slave of sin,
The slave of matter,
The slave of love,
The slave of myself.
Get rid of sin and lust,
Of matter and love,
And you will get rid of yourself,
Said my other self.
Are you proposing suicide, sadly said myself?
No, I would never do that, said my other self.
Then, what are you trying to say?
Just be yourself.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ch 05 On Love And Youth Story 02
It is said that a gentleman possessed a slave of exquisite beauty, whom he regarded with love and affection. He nevertheless said to a friend: ‘Would that this slave of mine, with all the beauty and good qualities he possesses, had not a long and uncivil tongue!’ He replied: ‘Brother, do not expect service, after professing friendship; because when relations between lover and beloved come in, the relations between master and servant are superseded’:
When a master with a fairy-faced slave
Begins to play and to laugh
What wonder if the latter coquets like the master
And the gentleman bears it like a slave?
A slave is to draw water and make bricks.
A pampered slave will strike with the fist.
Slave 2 The System
Slave) {repeat in song}
Slave, yeah {x2}
Slave 2 the system here before I was born
Slave 2 the master, workin' me till I'm worn
The only penthouse I can count on's a big black ball and chain
Slave 2 the system, the future's all arranged
Oh, U better fetch that water, boy {x2}
Slave 2 the system
Thompson's my last name, but my daddy's name is Lloyd
The farther back I trace it, the more it becomes null and void
All my life I've struggled just 2 be called a boy
Slave 2 the system, oh what a joy
Oh, U better fetch that water, boy
Hell if I do!
(Oh, U better fetch that water, boy)
Oh, I'm just a slave 2 the system
Here before I was born
Slave 2 the master, workin' me till I'm worn
Slave 2 the system
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slave
(carly simon/jacob brackman)
Listening for your footsteps
Just waiting like a fool
Burning with a fever
Only you can cool
The clock beside my pillow
Has ticked away the night
Like a heartbeat mocking me
Until the light
Gotta stop these thoughts about you
Gotta learn to live without you
Gotta find some freedom for this weary slave
cause Im hungry for you
And Im longing for you
And Im burning for you
I worship your opinions
I imitate your ways
I try to make you grace me
With a word of praise
However much I tell myself
That Im strong and free and brave
Im just another woman
Raised to be a slave
Slave, nothing but a slave
Mind of a slave
Body of a slave
I find I gave away the soul
That I wanted you to save
Im just another woman
Raised to be a slave
Hungry for you
And longing for you
Burning for you
And Im longing for you
Burning for you
And Im yearning for you
Longing for you
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slave To Love
You're the hunter, I'm the game
Since we met, I'm not the same
The hunger in you can't be satisfied
You had a secret strategy
To take control and capture me
I lost my will and now I'm paralyzed
We made a slave to love
That's what I'll always be
A victim of your touch
You stole my soul and now I'm just a slave to love, yeah
It took one night at your hotel
To fall from grace into your spell
I can't believe you brought me to my knees
You kiss me once and love me twice
I'm on your mental sacrifice
Your target's touch was hot and aim to please
We made a slave to love
That's what I'll always be
A victim of your touch
You stole my soul and now I'm just a slave to love
Oh, I'm being used
Been held hostage for so long
Is this a one way love affair
Really wrong
We made a slave to love
That's what I'll always be
A victim of your touch
You stole my soul and now I'm just a slave to love
Just a slave to love
Just a slave to love
A victim of your touch
song performed by by Quiet Riot
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Enslaved
Alright alright this life is what you make it
Dont slide...you cant compromise
You click your heels 3 times imagination goes wild...
You cant analyze
So be sure that you are makin the best of what that you have
The truth is all within yourself
Dont be a slave ....a slave to someone else
Higher higher its where we want to be in our minds...
It will mesmerize
Its pleasure power thats what we devour....
You can have it crystallize
Now its time to look at what that youve done with your life
And that path you found and followed in
Yourself I wont be a slave...a slave to anyone
The question is
When its all done
Who will stand
And who will run
The answer is on my tongue
I wont be a slave to anyone
So be sure that you are makin the best of what you have
The truth is all within yourself
Dont be a slave....a slave to somone else
song performed by by Motley Crue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 01 Manner of Kings Story 17
Several men were in my company whose external appearance displayed the adornment of piety. A great man who had conceived a very good opinion of these persons had assigned them a fixed allowance but, after one of them had done something unbecoming the profession of dervishes, his opinion changed and they fell into disgrace. I desired in some way to save the allowance of my friends and intended to wait upon the great man but the doorkeeper would not allow me to enter and was rude. I pardoned him, because it has been said:
The door of an amir, vezier or sultan
Is not to be approached without an introduction.
When a dog or a doorkeeper sees a stranger
The former takes hold of his skirt, the latter of his collar.
When those who could at any time approach the presence of the said great man became aware of my case, they took me in with compliments and desired to assign me a high seat but I humbly took a lower one and said:
"Allow me who am the smallest slave
To sit in the line of slaves."
He said: "Allah, Allah, what need is there for such words?"
If thou sittest on my head and eyes
I shall be polite, for thou art polite.
In short, I took a seat and we conversed on a variety of topics till the affair of the error of my companions turned up and I said:
"What crime has my lord seen, who was bountiful,
To make the slave despicable in his sight?
To God that magnanimity and bounty is surrendered
Which beholds the crime but nevertheless bestows the bread."
The governor, being pleased with these words, ordered the support of my friends to be attended to as before and the arrears to be made good. I expressed my gratitude, kissed the ground of obedience, apologized for my boldness, and said:
"Since the Ka’bah has become the Qiblah of wants from distant lands
The people go to visit it from many farsangs.
Thou must suffer the importunity of such as we are
Because no one throws stones on a tree without fruit."
Acting As Your Slave
My hand asleep for hours
Waiting for the needles to begin
I have no control
They proceed to penetrate my skin
Acting as your slave I drink for amber waves
I never have embraced
Acting as your slave I drink an open grave
An epitaph defaced
Killing with compassion
She hasnt heard a word that I have said
Swallowing your passion
I can see a thousand miles ahead
Acting as your slave I drink for barricades
That I have often raised
Acting as your slave I numb my head and rave
Of epitaphs defaced
Acting as your slave I drink while she forgave
With trials left unfaced
Acting as your slave I stumble to her grave
An epitaph defaced
song performed by by Verve Pipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Slave Wants To Be So
A slave is a slave as he is in love.
As slave he’s assured that he is secure.
His master can be a possessive wife,
A caring mother or a beloved child.
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Slavery is not drudgery.
Virtually I can’t defy
What my little grandson dictates.
I am a slave to him.
Willingly I can’t disobey
What the woman of my love wants.
I am a slave to her.
Slavery is not at all drudgery.
Being a slave is exuberant.
07.03.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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September Grass
Well, the suns not so hot in the sky today
And you know I can see summertime slipping on away
A few more geese are gone, a few more leaves turning red
But the grass is as soft as a feather in a featherbed
So Ill be king and youll be queen
Our kingdoms gonna be this little patch of green
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down with me now
September grass
Oh the memory is like the sweetest pain
Yeah, I kissed the girl at a football game
I can still smell the sweat and the grass stains
We walked home together. I was never the same.
But that was a long time ago
And where is she now? I dont know
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down with me now
September grass
Oh, september grass is the sweetest kind
It goes down easy like apple wine
Hope you dont mind if I pour you some
Made that much sweeter by the winter to come
Do you see those ants dancing on a blade of grass?
Do you know what I know? thats you and me, baby
Were so small and the worlds so vast
We found each other down in the grass
Wont you lie down with me right here
September grass
Wont you lie down with me now
In this september grass
Lie down
Lie down
Lie down
Lie down
(repeat)
Wont you lie down here right now
In this september grass
Wont you lie down here now
In this september grass
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 02
I saw a dervish who placed his head upon the threshold of the Ka’bah, groaned, and said: ‘O forgiving, 0 merciful one, thou knowest what an unrighteous, ignorant man can offer to thee.’
I have craved pardon for the deficiency of my service
Because I can implore no reward for my obedience.
Sinners repent of their transgressions.
Arifs ask forgiveness for their imperfect worship.
Devotees desire a reward for their obedience and merchants the price of their wares but I, who am a worshipper, have brought hope and not obedience. I have come to beg and not to trade. Deal with me as thou deemest fit.
Whether thou killest me or forgivest my crime,
my face and head are on thy threshold.
A slave has nothing to command; whatever thou commandest I obey.
I saw a mendicant at the door of the Ka’bah Who said this and wept abundantly:
‘I ask not for the acceptance of my service
But for drawing the pen of pardon over my sins.’
Simply grass....! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! !
Grass is very pretty;
But it’s not simply grass,
Or just stuff of lawns.
If you go up and close,
You see a world
Of flowers, waiting
To be discovered.
Grass flowers keep a low profile;
Their colour, height not loud
To scream from far off…
But as I sit on grass
On a humid day, As Sun goes down
West in May,
Or at mid-noon in December
On an icy cold day;
Somehow they remind me
Of a six month old,
Who first learns to crawl
And raises his neck and turns
To make eye contact
With his mom.
The innocence writ large
On their face
Is their unique scent.
Although not effervescent;
Yet timid… by no means.
What if they grow under trees?
Or wherever they get
To assert themselves.
They deserve applause for
Holding their own
On frail stems.
They arrest my gaze,
And I feel more than certain
God is in small details.
poem by Mamta Agarwal
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There is nothing fantastic or ultradimansional about crab grass... unless you are an sf writer, in which case pretty soon you are viewing crab grass with suspicion. What are it's real motives And who sent it here in the first place It only looks like crab grass. That's what they want us to think it is. One day the crab grass suit will fall off and their true identity will be revealed. By then the Pentagon will be full of crab grass and it'll be too late. The crab grass, or what we took to be crab grass, will dictate terms.
quote by Philip K. Dick
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dambala
Tony mckay
Oh dambala come dambala
Oh dambala come dambala
Think of the wings of a three toed frog
Eat weeds from the deepest part of sea
Oh dambala come dambala
Oh dambala come dambala
On the seventh day God will be there
On the seventh night satan will be there
On the seventh day God will be there
On the seventh night satan will be there
You slavers will know
What its like to be a slave
Slave to your heart
Slave to your soul
Oh dambala come dambala
Oh dambala come dambala
You slavers will know what its
Like to be a slave
Slave to your mind
Slave to your race
You wont go to heaven
You wont go to hell
You remain in your graves
With the stench and the smell
Oh dambala come dambala
Oh dambala come dambala
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Scythe Song
MOWERS, weary and brown, and blithe,
What is the word methinks ye know,
Endless over-word that the Scythe
Sings to the blades of the grass below?
Scythes that swing in the grass and clover,
Something, still, they say as they pass;
What is the word that, over and over,
Sings the Scythe to the flowers and grass?
Hush, ah hush, the Scythes are saying,
Hush, and heed not, and fall asleep;
Hush, they say to the grasses swaying;
Hush, they sing to the clover deep!
Hush—’t is the lullaby Time is singing—
Hush, and heed not, for all things pass;
Hush, ah hush! and the Scythes are swinging
Over the clover, over the grass!
poem by Andrew Lang
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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