Yeh. When life kicks ya in the stones, you might as well sleep it off if ya can:
The moving finger writes, and having writ,
Moves on.
Not all your piety nor wit
shall cancel half a line.
Nor all your tears wash out a word of it.
But, from the same guy, tomorrow may well bring a better world and a new outlook:
Wake! For Morning into the bowl of light
Has flung the stone that set the stars aflight.
And lo! the Sultan's turret
Is lassoed in a noose of light.
A-rabs ain't currently in good odor, but that one (Omar Kahayyam) wasn't a bad poet. Our artiste had a rough day yesterday (Tuesday), maybe today will be a little brighter.
--lj
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