Quotations about:
    destroyer

Behold these cups, he takes such pains to make them,
And then enraged lets ruin overtake them;
So many shapely feet, and heads, and hands,
What love drives him to make, what wrath to break them?

Omar Khayyám (1048-1123) Persian poet, mathematician, philosopher, astronomer [عمر خیام]

Rubáiyát [رباعیات], Bod. # 19 [tr. Whinfield (1882), # 22]
    (Source)

Alternate translations:

Another said -- "Why, ne'er a peevish Boy,
"Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy;
"Shall He that made the Vessel in pure Love
"And Fancy, in an after Rage destroy?
[tr. FitzGerald, 1st ed. (1859), # 62]

Another said, "Why, ne'er a peevish Boy
"Would break the Cup from which he drank in Joy;
"Shall He that of his own free Fancy made
"The Vessel, in an after-rage destroy!"
[tr. FitzGerald, 2nd ed. (1868), # 92]

Then said a Second -- "Ne'er a peevish Boy
"Would break the Bowl from which he drank in joy;
"And He that with his hand the Vessel made
"Will surely not in after Wrath destroy."
[tr. FitzGerald, 3rd ed. (1872), # 85; 4th ed. (1879) # 85; 5th ed. (1889), # 78]

Who can believe that he who made the cup would dream of destroying it? All those fair faces, all those lovely limbs, all those enchanting bodies, what love has made them, and what hate destroys them?
[tr. McCarthy (1879), # 100]

Behold these cups! Can He who deigned to make them,
In wanton freak let ruin overtake them,
So many shapely feet and hands and heads, --
What love drives Him to make, what wrath to break them?
[tr. Whinfield (1883), # 42]

What man believes that He who made the Vase
Will sometime shatter it in Anger base?
The Maker of these weak misguided Men
Will surely not in Wrath His Works efface.
[tr. Garner (1887), 8.8]

The elements of a cup which he has put together,
their breaking up a drinker cannot approve,
all these heads and delicate feet -- with his finger-tips,
for love of whom did he make them? -- for hate of whom did he break them?
[tr. Heron-Allen (1898), # 19]

He who has formed the goblet from the clay
Can ne'er destroy his art's surpassing token.
These hands and feet and face of beauty -- say,
Why framed in love, and why in fury broken?
[tr. Cadell (1899), # 12]

The framework of the cup He did unite.
To break in rage how should God deem it right?
So many comely heads, feet, hands and arms!
Shaped by what love, and broke in what despite?
[tr. Thompson (1906), # 81]

The Craftsman who hath made a cup so rare
To hold his wine, will handle it with care.
For love of whom, then, made He thee and me,
or hate of whom to break and not to spare?
[tr. Talbot (1908), # 19]

It is not allowable for a man, [even when] drunk, to destroy
the composition of a cup which he has put together.
So many fair heads and feet, formed by His hand, for
love of whom did He make them? and for hate of whom
did He destroy them?
[tr. Christensen (1927), # 77]

The parts which have united to form a goblet
Even the intoxicated refrain to break up again.
So many heads and tender hands;
By whose bounty were they united and through whose wrath were they broken up?
[tr. Rosen (1928), # 10]

We know that body once can earn His grace,
We should not wear it hence in wasteful ways;
Such graceful form, and slender hands and face,
He cherished so, should we in hate efface?
[tr. Tirtha (1941), # 5.16]

The elements that constitute a bowl
Hate all besotted murderers of bowls --
Bowls deftly moulded for the love of whom?
Then dashed to pieces, as a curse on whom?
[tr. Graves & Ali-Shah (1967), # 92]

This bowl, which in its symmetry
Before us perfect stands,
The Potter made from particles
Of human heads and hands.
His love achieved a masterpiece:
Whose hate, what drunken whim,
Could shater into nothingness
The clay so loved by him?
[tr. Bowen (1976), # 50 "The Potter"]

When the clay into a cup is molded
Its breaking, the drunk scolded;
Many limbs and heads are enfolded
Through whose love unfolded, by which decree folded?
[tr. Shahriari (1998), # 27, literal]

The genius that shapes the form
Is far above mundane and norm
Clay into life shall transform
Back into dust by death’s storm.
[tr. Shahriari (1998), # 27, figurative]