Ch 03 On The Excellence Of Contentment Story 15
Hatim Tai, having been asked whether he had seen in the world anyone of more exalted sentiments than himself, replied: ‘Yes, one day I slaughtered forty camels to entertain Arab amirs. I had occasion to go out on some business into a corner of the desert, where I noticed a gatherer of briars, who had accumulated a hillock of thistles, and I asked him why he had not become a guest of Hatim since many people had come round to his banquet but he replied:
“Who eats bread by the work of his own hand
Will not bear to be obliged to Hatim Tai.”
Then I saw that his sentiments were more exalted than mine.’
Related quotes
Ch 02 The Morals Of Dervishes Story 49
A sage having been asked whether liberality or bravery is better replied: ‘He who possesses liberality needs no bravery.’
It is written on the tomb of Behram Gur:
‘A liberal hand is better than a strong arm.’
Hatim Tai has passed away but for ever
His high name will remain celebrated for beneficence.
Set aside the zekat from thy property because the exuberant vines
When pruned by the vintner will yield more grapes.
The Little Chimney Sweep - Victorian Times
What is above all these chimneys, I asked the young lad,
The chimney sweep boy replied,
Why Sir, it's the sky which is sometimes so blue,
That when I look up and glance at the view,
Such glory cannot be denied.
What lies in that sky then, I asked the young lad,
The boy gazing up now replied,
Oh Sir, clouds and sunshine, at night moon and stars,
Planets like Jupiter, Saturn and Mars,
What wonders out there can be spied?
Is your work very unbearable, I asked the young lad,
Most times Sir, it is, he replied,
From dawn until dusk, I'm climbing to sweep,
The soot from the chimneys, for my food and my keep,
My Master cannot be defied.
Do you 'welcome' the sky, I asked the young lad,
When I'm climbing, I do, he replied,
It's my friend when it's dark and the way up is hard,
Because sometimes I get burn't and then badly scarred,
There's many a time I have cried.
What then do you wish for, I asked the young lad,
With yearning, he slowly replied,
I would love to be free and fly like the birds,
Way up in the sky, and if I had the words,
Write about how I'd feel like inside.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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And Pussy cat
Pussy pussy cat pussy cat
Where have you been
And pussy cat replied
He had been to London
To look at the queen
Again I asked Pussy cat
Where have you been
And pussy cat replied
He had been to Odisha
To look at English
Rule of Nabin.
Pussy cat pussy cat
Further I asked where
Have you been and
Pussy cat replied
He had been to see
Odia people who are fool
And how odia people
Still remain cool
Pussy pussy cat
I asked where have
You been and pussy cat
Replied he had been
To India to see
The democratic rule.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Sunflowers After Sex.
After the sex she stood
In front of the Van Gogh
Painting and gazed. Never
Saw that last night, she said.
It was dark, Max replied.
She touched the painting
With her fingers. Why have
A painting of flowers when
You can go out and buy some?
She asked. They last longer this
Way, he replied. So did you
Paint this? She asked in a state
Of semi undress, her eyes sleepy,
Her hair in a mess. No, Van Gogh
Did, he replied. Is he a friend of
Yours? She asked rubbing her breasts.
He sighed and shook his head. No,
Van Gogh painted that many years
Ago, now he’s dead. It’s a bit yellow,
She said, looking at the painting
Closer, what are those yellow flowers
Supposed to be? Sunflowers, he said,
They’re big flowers; people grow them
For real. She raised her eyebrows and
Pulled a face. What about that drink?
She asked. Sure, Max replied pouring
Her gin in a tall glass. She took, sipped
And winked an eye. What about more
Sex? She sighed. Sure, Max, looking at
Van Gogh’s Sunflowers, boringly replied.
poem by Terry Collett
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Conversation with God
One day while I was dreaming I heard a soft like voice
It called me to a pond
and asked to recite
the stories of my childhood
I thought it very strange
Then with deafening noise it came
It took me to the pond and asked me 'what I could see'
'I see me' I replied
'Very good' it said
'Now do you see' it asked
'I see a little child with hair as bright as fire'
'Who is that child' it asked
'It is me' I replied again
'Do you remember what that child was like'
'No' I replied
'Until you become a child again you'll see no more'
'I do not understand' I said
'You will' came the voice
'When' I asked
'When you believe that I am real'
'But you are real' I answered
'Only one who truly believes can understand'
poem by Rachel Branscombe
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A Perpetual Stream Of Sacred Consciousness
I asked the mountain
You are very strong
you will exist till the end of creation
The mountain replied numbly
No, Nay, not so
the water can flow me and
convert me to a plain land
then my existence will vanish
I asked the rock
no one can melt you
the rock also replied numbly
No, Nay not so
the water can melt me
and I will be no more
I asked the trees
the water will destroy you
the tree replied
No, Nay not so
it shall irrigate me and
give me life
I asked each and every creatures
all replied
water is more soft, more rich
and more strong
it can destroy and give life too
it can quench thirst of all
and give life to all
I asked the Water
You are soft and mild
You are rich and strong too
The water replied
No, Nay not so
I may be dried at any time
It is poetry,
a perpetual stream of sacred consciousness
flowing ever and ever
beyond the stars and planets and
even beyond plenty of universe
The Poetry can save me and
pray to God for my survival.
poem by Ramesh Rai
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I cannot forget a conversation that I had with an elderly couple from the tribe. They asked me whether I would kill them after I had finished. When I asked them why they asked that, they replied, Because you white men always do!
quote by Roland Joffe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Ch 03 On The Excellence Of Contentment Story 06
It is narrated in the life of Ardeshir Babekan that he asked an Arab physician how much food he must consume daily. He replied: ‘The weight of one hundred dirhems will be enough.’ The king queried: ‘What strength will this quantity give me?’ He replied: ‘This quantity will carry thee, and whatever is more than that, thou wilt be the carrier of it.’
Eating is for living and praying.
Thou thinkest living is for eating.
Ch 01 Manner of Kings Story 28
A solitary dervish was sitting in a corner of the desert when a padshah happened to pass by but, ease having made him independent, he took no notice. The sultan, in conformity with his royal dignity, became angry and said: "This tribe of rag-wearers resembles beasts."’ The vezier said: "The padshah of the surface of the earth has passed near thee. Why hast thou not paid homage and shown good manners?" He replied: "Tell the king to look for homage from a man who expects benefits from him and also that kings exist for protecting subjects and subjects not for obeying kings."
The padshah is the guardian of the dervish
Although wealth is in the glory of his reign.
The sheep is not for the shepherd
But the shepherd for the service of it.
Today thou beholdest one man prosperous
And another whose heart is wounded by struggling.
Wait a few days till the earth consumes
The brain in the head of the visionary.
Distinction between king and slave has ceased
When the decree of fate overtakes them.
If a man were to open the tombs of the dead
He would not distinguish a rich from a poor man.
The king, who was pleased with the sentiments of the dervish, asked him to make a request but he answered that the only one he had to make was to be left alone. The king then asked for advice and the dervish said:
"Understand now while wealth is in thy hand
That fortune and kingdom will leave thy hand."
Naresh Sonee Gave A Run
Once on road a male Naresh Sonee was furiously acting funny,
On to get hold of some body, he was continuously running,
People stopped him, and asked - “Why the hell you are so urgently running? ”,
'To catch hold the former runner, who is trying hard to escape while dodging',
Naresh Sonee was asked by people, Some on by crossers-n-passer,
“Is the one to whom after you are running robber else murderer? ”,
“Had he fingered or flirt your wife, sister, daughter, or kidnap your child, either?
Naresh Sonee replied running in haste, “No, he is not any, but a cheater ',
The onlookers demanded “Had the former runner cheated some dollars or coin?
Naresh Sonee replied, “No, I have listened to all of his poems, he is not listening mine”
poem by Naresh Sonee
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The Way To The City
A CITIZEN CAME ACROSS A NATIVE AND SAID, WHICH WAY I BEG OF THEE' LEADS TO THE CITY? HE ASKED THE NATIVE WHO REPLIED! OH, EVERY WAY BUT THIS WAY! AND THE SURPRISED CITIZEN ASKED CURIOUSLY, WHAT MEAN YOU BY THAT STATEMENT? AND THE NATIVE REPLIED, WELL, THIS WAY LEADS TO MY NATIVITY, THAT MUCH I AM SURE OF!
poem by Overlord Don Manuel Ihcakeyno
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Fay and You and the Ruler.
Fay met you
on your way home
from school
standing by the entrance
of Meadow Row
she was in her school uniform
a satchel
over a shoulder
how was school?
she asked
boring and the day
too long
you replied
but at least
you can learn things
she said
like how
to make a candle
holder in woodwork?
finding some river
in India
I'll never see?
you said
she smiled shyly
well maybe you will
she said
how are you?
you asked
ok
she replied
got told off
by Sister Bernard
for not having a ruler
what did you do
with your ruler?
you asked
lost it
she said
ah well
there you are
you said
naughty naughty
she walked on
down Meadow Row
and you walked
beside her
actually
she said quietly
my daddy took it
she stood still
and stared at you
he beat me
with it
she said
in a whisper
you looked
into her eyes
and saw your
reflection there
two yous
staring back
why?
you asked
taking in her paleness
her fair hair tied
in a ponytail
he said l hadn't done
my jobs properly
jobs?
you asked
around the house
helping my mum
and did you? help?
yes usually
but I forgot
this time
big crime
you said
won't he give
the ruler back?
no
she said
he said he will keep it
as a lesson to me
can't you buy
a new one?
you asked
I haven't any money
she said
you can have
one of mine
you said
I have plenty at home
can I borrow one?
you can have one
she smiled weakly
her eyes lit up
and she took one
of your hands
and held it
I'll have to hide it though
she said
or he'll take
that one too
quite a guy your dad
you said
she looked away
at the bombed out houses
on the left hand side
you saw her hurt
and sadness
some things you can't hide.
poem by Terry Collett
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The Time Is Nigh, My Beloved
I received your letter today, where your sentiments seem to obviate
From the words you chose and the sense of certainty the did create.
There seems to be little doubt where your heart lies,
And that you wish to offer our love, a genuine reprise;
I am exalted by this news and by now, you know
That my feelings have not altered and I wish them to show!
Where ere, circumstances conspired, to our detriment,
Now it seems to offer nary an impediment!
No longer does our consort need be surreptitious,
We may revel with the world, in the joy they wish us!
Be still, my inspired heart, the mate you have awaited is here;
Be steady, my exalted soul, the counterpoint He created, is near!
The time is nigh, my beloved, for our fairy tale to begin;
I am ready when you are-just tell me when!
-Maurice Harris,4 June 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Bible in Poetry: Gospel of St. John (Chapter 6)
When Jesus went across the Sea
Of Galilee, a crowd followed;
They saw His miracles on sick;
He ascended the mountain-slope
And sat down with His disciples;
The Feast of Passover was near.
Then Jesus saw a large crowd come;
He asked Philip, ‘Where to buy food? ’
He asked this just to test Philip.
He knew what He’as going to do.
Then Philip replied, ‘Two hundred
Days’ wages worth food wouldn’t suffice.’
Andrew told Jesus, ‘There’s a boy
With barley loaves five and fish two.
It wouldn’t do well for such a crowd.’
Then Jesus told the crowd to rest.
Five thousand people sat on grass.
Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks
And had it shared along with fish.
When all had eaten indeed well,
Jesus told, ‘Gather all fragments.’
It was twelve wicker basketsful.
When people saw the miracle,
They accepted Jesus, Prophet-
The one who had come to the world!
They wanted to make Him the king.
So, Jesus withdrew to mountain.
When evening came, they went by boat,
Across the sea to Capernaum.
While traveling, it turned quite dark;
The sea was rough with fierce a wind.
When they had gone three miles off-shore,
They saw Jesus come walk on sea
Towards the boat, and grew afraid.
But Jesus said, ‘It’s I, Don’t fear! ’
They thought Jesus would come aboard;
But suddenly, the boat reached shore!
They realized the next day that
The disciples had come by boat
But Jesus did not come by same!
From Tiberias, other boats came.
As Jesus had not arrived still,
The crowd by boats reached Capernaum.
They went in search of Jesus there.
They found Him come across the sea;
They asked, ‘Rabbi, How did you come? ’
Then Jesus said, ‘Amen, I say;
You searched for me, not for my signs,
But due to being filled by loaves.’
‘Don’t work for food that perishes;
But that which gives eternity! ’
‘The Son of Man can give such food;
On Him was set, (God) father’s seal!
They asked Him how to work for God.
Then Jesus said, ‘This is God’s work,
That you believe in one He sent.’
They asked Him, ‘What sign can you give
That we may see and believe you? ’
Our ancestors were fed manna.
’Tis written, ‘He gave bread from sky! ’
So, Jesus said, ‘Amen, amen,
It wasn’t Moses then who gave bread;
My father gives heavenly bread!
God’s divine bread gives you new life.’
They asked, ‘Could you give bread always? ’
Then Jesus said, ‘I’m bread of life.’
‘One, seeking me shall hunger not;
He who believes in me shan’t thirst.’
‘Though you see me, you don’t believe;
All things, my Father gives, I get;
I won’t reject ones who seek me.
I came from heaven, not on own,
But by the will of one who sent.
It is His will that I lose naught;
And that I raise it on last day.’
The Jews murmured when He told thus:
‘I’m the bread that heaven sent.’
They asked, ’ Is not He, Joseph’s son?
Don’t we his mother, father know?
How come he says, ‘I’m heaven’s bread! ? ’
Then Jesus told, ‘Stop murmuring! ’
No one can come to me unless
My Father draws him up above;
I will raise him up on last day.’
’Tis written in the prophets thus:
‘They shall be taught by God Himself.’
And all who heed and learn from Him,
Will come to me like-wise truly.’
‘Amen, I say to you, Amen:
‘Whoever believes sure has eternal life.
‘Jesus said, ‘I’m the bread of life.’
‘Though ancestors ate manna, still,
They died in desert ground, some ill! ’
‘This is the heav’nly bread from God
He who eats it lives forever sans death;
I am that living bread divine;
Who eats this bread will live forev’r
The bread I’ll give is my own flesh.’
The Jews quarreled amongst themselves,
‘How can this man give flesh to eat? ’
So, Jesus said, ‘Amen to you;
Amen, unless you eat the flesh
And drink the blood of Son of man,
You do not have within you life! ’
‘Who eats my flesh and drinks my blood
Has life eternal- will be raised.
My flesh and blood are true food / drink;
Whoev’r does so, remains in me;
He will have life because of me;
Whoever eats this bread, ev’r lives! ’
These things were taught by Jesus while
In synagogue in Capernaum.
His own disciples seemed to tell,
‘This is quite hard; who can accept?
Then Jesus who’d their murmur heard
Queried, ‘Did all I said shock you? ’
‘What if you see the Son of Man
Ascend to where He was before? ’
‘For flesh is of no avail then;
Spirit alone gives live forev’r
My words are spirit and your life.
But there are some who don’t believe.’
For, Jesus knew from beginning
Ones who believe; ones who betray.
So Jesus said, ‘No one can come
To me unless my Father grants.’
Because of this some disciples
Returned to former ways of life,
Without accompanying Him.
Then Jesus asked the Twelve and said,
‘Do you intend to also leave? ’
Then Peter answered Him, ‘Master,
‘Master, to who shall we all go? ’
‘You have words of Eternal Life!
We do believe and are convinced,
You are the Holy One of God! ’
Jesus asked, ‘Didn’t I choose you Twelve,
Yet, one of you is sure devil! ’
Thus, Jesus referred to Judas,
The son of Simon Iscariot,
Who would be one to Him betray!
(5-22-2007)
poem by John Celes
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Flick-Knife Incident
After the argument
'Helen said'. 'Granny said'.
'Paul said'. 'Granny said'.
'Larry asked'.
Granny,
Who is Mrs Devereux,
Pulled out a flick-knife.
'! ', 'Helen said'.
'Helen asked'. Granny (lengthily replied) .
'Helen asked'. Granny (abruptly replied) .
'Helen asked'. 'Her grandmother said'.
'Larry said'. 'Paul said'.
'Larry asked', 'Does Declan know? '
'Granny said'.
'Larry said', 'I must go and tell.'
Lily 'addressed Paul'.
'Larry said'. 'Mrs Devereux said'. 'Paul said'.
'Lily said', 'Declan's getting sick...'
'Paul asked'. 'Helen said'. 'Paul said'.
Enough said.
poem by Douglas Scotney
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Fay and You and The Fading Bruise
Fay met you
at the bus stop
on the New Kent Road
she was dressed
in the lemon coloured dress
you liked
and her hair
was pulled tight
into a ponytail
where are you going?
she asked
to the Globe
you said
what Shakespeare's Globe?
she asked
no the fleapit cinema
at Camberwell Green
you replied
oh
she said
I've never been there
my daddy doesn't like
me going to cinemas
he says they're
dens of sin
she looked at you
as if you would confirm
her father's words
well it's certainly a den
you stated
but whether its
of sin I don't know
she looked puzzled
and touched
her ponytail
with her hand
are you coming along?
you asked
she looked about
as if her father
might be behind her
should I?
she asked
do you want to?
yes
she replied
then let's go
but I haven't any money
she said
I have enough
you said
my Mother gave me money
for chores I did
oh I see
she muttered
and she bit her lip
what would my daddy say
if he saw me?
he won't
how can you be so sure?
trust me
you said
fathers know little
of what their kids do
she smiled
if you think so
she said
sure I do
besides it'll
do you good
you said
giving her a smile
and then the bus came
and you both got on
and sat next
to each other
and you paid
the bus conductor
the fare
and as the bus
moved off
you both swayed
to the motion
of the bus
her arm touching yours
the fading bruise
on her flesh
a mixture of yellow
and brown
and blue
but you said nothing
besides you thought
if her old man
beats her
what the hell
can I do?
poem by Terry Collett
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They've Chosen To Be Winners
Picking up those pieces from a running done.
Now taking time when before they gave none.
Less they find offensive too.
With fresh sentiments meant,
They've improved.
Sticking to a purpose with a focused aimed
With minds more open.
And those attitudes changed.
A new day dawning has to them been sent.
To send defensive motives flushed,
With their fluxing minds now rinsed.
And...
They've chosen to be winners!
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
To leave behind their indifference.
They have chosen to be winners.
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
They're winners.
With those sentiments meant.
To leave behind their indifference.
Picking up those pieces from a running done.
Now taking time when before they gave none.
Less they find offensive too.
With fresh sentiments meant they've improved.
And...
They've chosen to be winners!
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
They're winners.
With those sentiments meant.
To leave behind their indifference.
They are winners.
With those sentiments meant.
Winners.
With those sentiments meant.
They're winners.
With those sentiments meant.
To leave behind their indifference.
To now say and to claim that they are...
Winners.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Rose-bud advises man…
I asked a rose-bud, ‘who gave you your beauty? ’
And it replied, ‘my mother’s sap gave me! ’
I asked again, ‘who gave your mother plant, its sap? ’
It said, ‘the soil and rain by roots, the sun through leaves! ’
I asked the rose-bud, ‘who gave the soil, sun and rain such abilities? ’
It replied, ‘the One who made all things, and you and me! ’
And now the rose-bud asked me, ‘But why do you ask such questions?
Are you not made beautiful too by the same One,
Who made me, the moon, sky, soil and sun?
And yet, like you, we cannot walk or run! ’
It continued, ‘we plants feel sad we cannot move like how you do! ’
‘We buds grow bigger by each dawn;
The Maker feels so happy when we’re born,
And smiles on seeing us each morn,
Turning ecstatic, when we blossom on,
The landscape to perfume and to adorn –
By morrow, most of us are almost gone! ’
I asked the rose-bud, ‘are the dew-drops then because you cry? ’
And it replied, ‘they are the tears of joy and sadness of God on high,
Who knows we are born to sooner die.’
But tell me man, such questions, you ask, ‘why? ’
The rose-bud went on:
‘God gave you man, woman, a long life-span;
And do many things, you surely can! ’
God made you far more beautiful!
Be satisfied and be dutiful;
God is our Master One, most wonderful!
Praise Him, thank Him for all His gifts to you, bountiful! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-2-2010
poem by John Celes
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From The Biography Of An Unknown Woman: Xix
'ma, what's a b.o.u.n.d.a.r.y? '
her little girl asked her one day
pushing her hair off her baby forehead
eyes glued to the geography book
'that's lines people draw for themselves, '
she replied busy fixing her dinner
'but how will i see them, ma? '
'no, you can never see them, you see
they're never fixed
they disappear in a blink
and get drawn in a blink too...'
she replied looking beyond
the boundary of her window
11may2010
08.00hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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