Thursday, April 14, 2011
...and then I wept too.
- Interpreter of Maladies by Jhumpa Lahiri
Thursday, April 7, 2011
From bad to good
ما أغنى عني ماليه
Allah ta'ala said in Surah al-Haqqah that a person's wealth will not make him rich. I asked a colleague to make sure the meaning was right because it didn't seem to make sense. What does wealth do? By definition it makes someone rich. But that is in this life. On the Day of Judgement wealth will do nothing for a person unless he used it in the path of Allah.
We see this theme coming in hadith as well when the Prophet (sallahu 'alayhi wa sallam) said his companions who the bankrupt one is. They responded that it is the one who has no money. He then taught them that it is the person who had prayed and fasted he wronged other people. Then those people whom he wronged will come and take all of his good deeds until he is flung into the Hellfire.
This helped me and lifted my mood. SubhanAllah. The words of Allah are so deep.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
je ne sais pas choisir
Je me dis ça peut attendre jeudi matin
Quand je me réveille le matin du jeudi
J' me dis j'aurais du mourrir mercredi!
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Le Petit Prince
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
All Things will Die
All Things will Die
All Things will Die
Clearly the blue river chimes in its flowing
Under my eye;
Warmly and broadly the south winds are blowing
Over the sky.
One after another the white clouds are fleeting;
Every heart this May morning in joyance is beating
Full merrily;
Yet all things must die.
The stream will cease to flow;
The wind will cease to blow;
The clouds will cease to fleet;
The heart will cease to beat;
For all things must die.
All things must die.
Spring will come never more.
O, vanity!
Death waits at the door.
See! our friends are all forsaking
The wine and the merrymaking.
We are call’d–we must go.
Laid low, very low,
In the dark we must lie.
The merry glees are still;
The voice of the bird
Shall no more be heard,
Nor the wind on the hill.
O, misery!
Hark! death is calling
While I speak to ye,
The jaw is falling,
The red cheek paling,
The strong limbs failing;
Ice with the warm blood mixing;
The eyeballs fixing.
Nine times goes the passing bell:
Ye merry souls, farewell.
The old earth
Had a birth,
As all men know,
Long ago.
And the old earth must die.
So let the warm winds range,
And the blue wave beat the shore;
For even and morn
Ye will never see
Thro’ eternity.
All things were born.
Ye will come never more,
For all things must die.
Alfred, Lord Tennyson