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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.
It is only the dead who do not return.
It is only the dead who do not return.
Death most resembles a prophet who is without honor in his own land or a poet who is a stranger read more
Death most resembles a prophet who is without honor in his own land or a poet who is a stranger among his people.
It is as natural to die as to be born; and to a little infant,
perhaps, the one is read more
It is as natural to die as to be born; and to a little infant,
perhaps, the one is as painful as the other.
Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and read more
Perhaps they are not stars, but rather openings in heaven where the love of our lost ones pours through and shines down upon us to let us know they are happy.
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.
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.
It is never death because they live in your heart foever.
It is never death because they live in your heart foever.
