Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 81
A sage was asked: ‘Of so many notable, high and fertile trees which God the most high has created, not one is called free, except the cypress, which bears no fruit. What is the reason of this?’ He replied: ‘Every tree has its appropriate season of fruit, so that it is sometimes flourishing therewith, and looks sometimes withered by its absence; with the cypress, however, neither is the case, it being fresh at all times, and this is the quality of those who are free.’
Place not thy heart on what passes away; for the Tigris
Will flow after the Khalifs have passed away in Baghdad.
If thou art able, be liberal like the date tree,
And if thy hand cannot afford it, be liberal like the cypress.
Related quotes
Ode to the bird in the cypress tree
Ode to the bird in the cypress tree
~
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
shaded from the heat of the midday sun
yet still free to ride upon the ocean breeze
whenever it chooses to blow from time to time
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
and chirp my own little song aloud to the world
or to fly amongst the clouds so high above
and look down to watch the world below
I wish to be like the bird in the cypress tree
for all my wishes and day bought dreams
I am here and I am still me writing a poem
about that lucky bird perched in the cypress tree
poem by Matthew Holloway
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The Sour Lemon Tree
A sour lemon tree flower attracts the bee
While its fruit is bitter not so its flower
White is its flower sweet and very pretty
Only the fruit is bitter and that's just a pity
As the beauty of its flower resist not a bee
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
With fruit that is bitter bears a lemon tree
But useful is its fruit good for everyday use
Once said a bee... your flower is very sweet
It carries fragrance scented out in the street
Yet bears you fruit bitter no one wants to eat
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
A citrus tree with fruit no other tree bears
Then out of the tree came a nice neat voice
'Twas like a voice of one who's very wise
This is what it said trees are not so free
One made a decree for every bearing tree
It's partly the truth
Or see the sour lemon tree
The Creator decides the fruit a tree bears
Whether it be bitter or whether it be sweet
The Creator decrees for every bearing tree
To bring forth fruit ordained for it to bear
Then sweet or bitter bears a tree its fruit
It's the simple truth
Or see the sour lemon tree.
poem by Clarence Prince
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Naturally Superior
An ancient Cypress tree still stands
Beside a ruined monument.
Outlasts the works of human hands.
Nothing man made is permanent.
The tree is self sufficient.
It needs no other maintenance.
Apart from the nourishment.
The soil provides and rains enhance.
The builders of the monument.
Erected by them to impress
Are long since dead that's evident.
Outlasted by this grand Cypress.
The ancient tree's content to be.
Just what it is a simple tree.
Saturday,03 March 2012
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Ch 08 On Rules For Conduct In Life - Maxim 01
Property is for the comfort of life, not for the accumulation of wealth. A sage, having been asked who is lucky and who is not, replied: ‘He is lucky who has eaten and sowed but he is unlucky who has died and not enjoyed.’
Pray not for the nobody who has done nothing,
Who spent his life in accumulating property but has not enjoyed it.
Moses, upon whom be peace, thus advised Qaroon (Korah): ‘Do thou good as Allah has done unto thee.’ But he would not listen and thou hast heard of his end:
Who has not accumulated good with dirhems and dinars
Has staked his end upon his dirhems and dinars.
If thou desirest to profit by riches of the world
Be liberal to mankind as God has been liberal to thee.
The Arab says: Be liberal without imposing obligations and verily the profit will return to thee.
Wherever the tree of beneficence has taken root
Its tallness and branches pass beyond the sky.
If thou art desirous to eat the fruit thereof
Do not put a saw to its foot by imposing obligations.
Thank God that thou hast been divinely aided
And not excluded from his gifts and bounty.
Think not thou conferrest an obligation on the sultan by serving him
But be obliged to him for having kept thee in his service.
Nellie
I am like a green Cypress tree and,
From me your fruit of love is found;
So come to me oh Nellie!
And let me lead you on like the land of many rivers.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Upon The Barren Fig-Tree In God's Vineyard
What, barren here! in this so good a soil?
The sight of this doth make God's heart recoil
From giving thee his blessing; barren tree,
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
Art thou not planted by the water-side?
Know'st not thy Lord by fruit is glorified?
The sentence is, Cut down the barren tree:
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be.
Hast thou been digg'd about and dunged too,
Will neither patience nor yet dressing do?
The executioner is come, O tree,
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
He that about thy roots takes pains to dig,
Would, if on thee were found but one good fig,
Preserve thee from the axe: but, barren tree,
Bear fruit, or else thy end will cursed be!
The utmost end of patience is at hand,
'Tis much if thou much longer here doth stand.
O cumber-ground, thou art a barren tree.
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be!
Thy standing nor they name will help at all;
When fruitful trees are spared, thou must fall.
The axe is laid unto thy roots, O tree!
Bear fruit, or else thine end will cursed be.
poem by John Bunyan
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From The Same Tree
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit....
From the same tree
the good fruit goes to the market
the bad fruit...to the soil.
From the same tree
is the reason for the lonely farmer
to wake up each morning
to see how the fruits grow well...
and is the reason for the lonely farmer
for not winning the heart of his beloved
who prefer the city life
From the same tree
there is the good fruit
there is the bad fruit.
poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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A Tree's Fruit
Good fruit or bad fruit, a tree can only bear one,
This parable was taught by God's one and only Son.
First mentioned by John as a warning for the Pharisees to heed,
But being blind to The Truth, most of them would not believe.
Your life is the tree and your deeds are the fruit,
This is a simple analogy that it hard to dispute.
But the Pharisees who knew the Word and lived in the land,
Were rebuked by John the Baptist, as they didn't understand.
Christians need to produce fruit for the Lord and nothing less,
And all the fruit that we produce should be fruits of righteousness.
Our old nature will produce fruit that comes from the past,
Not only is this fruit bad, but it's the kind that won't last.
Not only is bearing good fruit The Lord's heart desire,
But trees that continue to bear bad fruit may be cast in the fire.
Within your own heart is where the good or bad fruit is stored,
And by your fruits men will know you, is made clear by The Lord.
The fruit of righteousness is a tree of life, was once said,
However, a tree that bears bad fruit may be eternally dead.
What fruit you produce is strictly your choice my dear friend,
And by this choice you will either be blessed or condemned.
( 03/2002)
Happiness is a pair of away stars
Happiness is a pair of away stars -
for those who stare behind bars.
When I decided to fly away free -
I was a shadow of a cypress tree.
Retention of nothingness, to edge
my honor lonely, a pointy wedge,
red spilled wine, in dark accord,
poem white - chalk on black board.
And there memories, now abstruse,
on aimless wander, one to peruse,
when thoughts became, a void loss,
dusk crossed lines, life to emboss.
My lovely melodies of a nightingale
modes diatonic, propose and fail,
a smile of marble, thinking benign,
extension of solitude, aimless sign.
Happiness is a pair of away stars
for those who stare behind bars;
When I decided to fly away free -
I was a shadow of a cypress tree.
poem by Giorgio Veneto
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As the Pine Cypress tree would say
I want to be like the Cassia tree-
The Cassia tree by the river side
I want to be like the Cassia tree
firmly rooted in the soil inside
so when the winds play its tune of tempest
I will sway left and right as it would have me sway
Sway and not break or lose a footing
as the pine cypress tree would say
I want to be like the Cassia tree-
The Cassia tree by the riverside
I want to be like the Cassia tree
firmly rooted in the soil inside
so when the clouds gather and dress the sky in
dark clothing, for the ritual of the rain
I will stand its pour to the rage of the thunder
Stand and not break or lose a footing
as the pine cypress tree would say
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.
Roots, Trees, and Fruits
A tree is known by its root
The source of its first life
A fruit is known by the tree
As a man is known through strife.
The root of a man is his family
The tree is the man that has grown-
The words that he writes in poetry
Show the rearing he has known.
-
Copyright Cynthia Buhain -Baello
July 6,2009 Tarlac City Philippines
--
'No good tree bears bad fruit, nor does a bad tree bear good fruit.
Each tree is recognized by own fruit.'
Luke 6: 43
poem by Cynthia Buhain-Baello
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The Divine Tree
In my mind I see perched upon a rocky hill
Standing firm a silhouetted tree so strong and still
Its roots extend well below the turf
Reaching deep to the centre of the earth
Its sprawling branches stretch in a canopy above
High into the sky to heaven where there’s much love
This tree is magical and a symbol for us to see
As it bears fruit, good things given by divinity
Of love compassion, peace and self awareness
To visualise the tree is a privilege I confess
But all can see if they search enough
Even though the mist at times make viability tough
The wind of your thought in its branches whisper through
And brings forth its fruit for those that stay true
And if sometimes when you try to climb to its branches on high
When life seems touch and you really have to try
The branch it may break and then you may fall
But the tree will still stand it stays there for us all
And then you must try once again you see
Each time you get further higher in the great tree
And each time you make a higher ascent
You get higher into its canopy to Heaven sent
Cypress Tree
Written by: r. robinson & c. robinson
So you found yourself a killer
The one with blue eyes
I guess the bloodstains on the blanket dont lie
Well I guess I saw it comin
Like a boy I just kept runnin
But through this crime I have survived
Chorus:
Theyre gonna hang you from the cypress tree
The crowd gonna cheer when they see you swing
Yeah theyre gonna hang you from the cypress tree
Tell me now do you believe?
Glory hallelujah
I raise my glass up to you
And I bow my head with utmost respect
But I think its only fair to warn you
That theres a storm thats coming up on you
And like the wind and the rain
My words are direct
Chorus
Its a funny word friends
You get beginnings and you got ends
I guess Ill see you when were ashes again
song performed by by Black Crowes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fruit On A Higher Branch
One afternoon, along a river bank,
As I rested near a fruit laden tree,
I felt the urge to climb, feeding my glee,
Or perhaps, 'twas the wildness that I drank,
Or the child in me, that yearned to be free;
A fruit dared me, but can't be reached by hand,
It hanged so far out, on a tender branch,
Seems it paled, from my eyeing, it could blanch,
Thought, I'll climb next day, with a stick or wand,
But that dusk, I bowed, as I head for ranch;
But the way that wills could, oftentimes, change,
Though my aim, next day, was to climb again,
Other trees, I passed, did my muse sustain,
And before that fruit tree came into range,
With ease, a basketful, I did obtain;
With wisdom to go on, seeming unwise,
I chose to head homeward, back where I came,
And then fancied building ships, make a name,
Anything, that myself, I might surprise,
When cards are laid, to fare well in life's game;
Today, many a time worn year had passed,
But nary a time, have I come back there,
And lo! That fruit may still be there, somewhere,
Waiting for souls, whose eagerness surpassed,
All hardships entailed, not going elsewhere.
poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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From The Tuscan
WHEN in the west the red sun sank in glory,
The cypress trees stood up like gold, fine gold;
The mother told her little child the story
Of the gold trees the heavenly gardens hold.
In golden dreams the child sees golden rivers,
Gold trees, gold blossoms, golden boughs and leaves,
Without, the cypress in the night wind shivers,
Weeps with the rain and with the darkness grieves.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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A Flower To Auroville Mother-83
Mayilmannikkam(Cypress Vine,
Ipomoea quamoclit)
Tiny trumpets twinkling
Pink and red and white
Feathery leaves fanning
Charmed humming' respite
And I can have her annual
Seeds she thence to seedling
Thence in cycles perennial
Lo, divine Cypress dappling
poem by Indira Renganathan
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When I am dead, my dearest, Sing no sad songs for me Plant thou no roses at my head, Nor shady cypress tree. Be the green grass above me With showers and dewdrops wet And if thou wilt, remember And if thou wilt, forget.
quote by Christina Georgina Rossetti
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Caged
People began bidding for a confined bird on a ledge
A poor bird in a iron cage.
No one knows this birds age.
It was the pleasing color of sage.
The sea was in a constant rage.
Everyone was afraid of standing near the outside stage.
The bird went to the highest bidder for a high price.
The auctionor asked him what he was going to do with the bird?
The owner of the bird set it free.
So it could fly from tree to tree.
The bird said thank you by singing its wild glee.
This reminds me of how God can set a mans souls free.
Thank you God for setting my soul free.
Sonnet LXXXII: Hoarded Joy
I said: “Nay, pluck not,—let the first fruit be:
Even as thou sayest, it is sweet and red,
But let it ripen still. The tree's bent head
Sees in the stream its own fecundity
And bides the day of fulness. Shall not we
At the sun's hour that day possess the shade,
And claim our fruit before its ripeness fade,
And eat it from the branch and praise the tree?”
I say: “Alas! our fruit hath wooed the sun
Too long,—'tis fallen and floats adown the stream.
Lo, the last clusters! Pluck them every one,
And let us sup with summer; ere the gleam
Of autumn set the year's pent sorrow free,
And the woods wail like echoes from the sea.”
poem by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
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