| For the raindrop, joy is in entering the river... Travel far enough into sorrow, tears turn into sighing; When after a heavy rain, storm clouds disperse, is it not that they've wept themselves clear to the end? |
| Ghalib |
| In my love's house, there is no peace in pleasure. At every breath, the caravan's bells cry: ride on! |
| Hafiz |
| The Beauty of Eastern Wisdom |