Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face read more

Somewhere, in desolate, wind-swept space,
In twilight land, in no man's land,
Two hurrying shapes met face to face
And bade each other stand.
"And who are you?" cried one, a-gape,
Shuddering in the glimmering light.
"I know not," said the second shape,
"I only died last night."

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.

From my rotting body, flowers shall grow and I am in them and that is eternity.

It is only the dead who do not return.

It is only the dead who do not return.

Go thou, deceased, to this earth which is a mother, and spacious
and kind. May her touch be soft read more

Go thou, deceased, to this earth which is a mother, and spacious
and kind. May her touch be soft like that of wool, or a young
woman, and may she protect thee from the depths of destruction.
Rise above him, O Earth, do not press painfully on him, give him
good things, give him consolation, as a mother covers her child
with her cloth, cover thou him.

One can survive everything nowadays, except death, and live down anything, except a good reputation.

One can survive everything nowadays, except death, and live down anything, except a good reputation.

I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another read more

I am ready to meet my Maker. Whether my Maker is prepared for the ordeal of meeting me is another matter.

I look upon life as a gift from God. I did nothing to earn it. Now that the time is read more

I look upon life as a gift from God. I did nothing to earn it. Now that the time is coming to give it back, I have no right to complain.

He who died at Azan sends
This to comfort all this friends:
Faithful friends! It lies I read more

He who died at Azan sends
This to comfort all this friends:
Faithful friends! It lies I know
Pale and white and cold as snow;
And ye say, "Abdallah's dead!"
Weeping at the feet and head.
I can see your falling tears,
I can hear your sighs and prayers;
Yet I smile and whisper this:
I am not the thing you kiss.
Cease your tears and let it lie;
It was mine--it is not I.

Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it.

Nothing in his life became him like the leaving it.