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Of the Anglo-Saxon poems I like, "Deor" I like in particular due to this poem's wolfish spirit in enduring life's hardships and circumstances and the changes of fortune. Indeed, it gives the impression of a wounded wolf crying in the wilderness long and mournfully. In particular I remember that immortal line in "Deor":


That sorrow pass'd, so will this one

The other day I read Kamal Junbulat's motto in life, and I particularly liked it because it renders into a pygmy Shakespeare's To be or not to be and put it in the shade. Let's read:

To die or not die, care I not, for life is but a figment of the imagination

اموت او لا اموت , لا أبالي أنما العمر من نسج الخيال