My fascination with the old ways

I have this fascination with the old days that most people find pecuilar. I find them pecuilar because they are ignorant of their own history and heritage. How can you not be entranced by the great poetry that has been left behind for us? A rich inheritance that i am grateful for. I embrace it and cherish it.

Here is a sample....

Literal:
Signs of destiny have always beenThose hands inscribed both good and meanWhat was written, came from the unseenThough we tried without and worried within.

Meaning:
One is great

Who faces fateBefore it’s late,

AppreciateThe destined state

No matter how much we debate

Oppose, engage, or calculate

Even try to accelerate

Fate only moves at its own rate.

Futile is worry, anger and hate

Joy is the only worthy mate.

-Omar Khayyam

( Rubaiyat)