CVII.
Better, oh better, cancel from the Scroll Of Universe one luckless Human Soul, Than drop by drop enlarge the Flood that rolls Hoarser with Anguish as the Ages roll.
This quatrain, interpolated after the quatrain which became No. XCVIII. in the fourth edition, was no doubt inspired by N. 457 (_q.v. sub_ No. 98 _ante_) and by O. 54.
What the Pen has written never changes, And grieving only results in deep affliction; Even through all thy life thou weepest tears of blood, Not one drop becomes increased beyond what it is.
_Ref._: O. 54, B. ii. 144.
VARIATIONS
BETWEEN THE SECOND, THIRD AND FOURTH EDITIONS OF FITZGERALD'S TRANSLATION OF
OMAR KHAYYAM
STANZA
I. In ed. 2:
Wake! For the Sun behind yon Eastern height Has chased the Session of the Stars from Night; And, to the field of Heav'n ascending, strikes The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light.
In the first draft of ed. 3 the first and second lines stood thus
Wake! For the Sun before him into Night A Signal flung that put the Stars to flight.
II. In ed. 2:
Why lags the drowsy Worshipper outside?
V. In edd. 2 and 3:
But still a Ruby gushes from the Vine.
IX. In edd. 2 and 3:
Morning a thousand Roses brings, you say.
X. In ed. 2:
Let Rustum cry «To Battle!» as he likes, Or Hatim Tai «To Supper!»--heed not you
In ed. 3:
Let Zal and Rustum thunder as they will.
STANZA
XII. In ed. 2:
Here with a little Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse--and Thou, etc.
XIII. In ed. 2:
Ah, take the Cash, and let the Promise go, Nor heed the music of a distant Drum!
XX. In ed. 2:
And this delightful Herb whose living Green.
XXII. In edd. 2 and 3:
That from his Vintage rolling Time has prest.
XXVI. In edd. 2 and 3.
Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust.
XXVII. In ed. 2:
Came out by the same door as in I went.
XXVIII. In edd. 2 and 3.
And with my own hand wrought to make it grow.
XXX. In ed. 2.
Ah, contrite Heav'n endowed us with the Vine To drug the memory of that insolence! XXXI. In ed. 2:
And many Knots unravel'd by the Road.
XXXII. In edd. 2 and 3:
There was the Veil through which I could not see.
XXXIII. In ed. 2:
Nor Heav'n, with those eternal Signs reveal'd.
XXXIV. In ed. 2:
Then of the THEE IN ME who works behind The Veil of Universe I cried to find A Lamp to guide me through the darkness; and Something then said--«An Understanding blind.»
XXXV. In ed. 2:
I lean'd, the secret Well of Life to learn.
STANZA
XXXVI. In ed. 2:
And drink; and that impassive Lip I kiss'd.
XXXVIII. In ed. 2 the only difference is «For» instead of «And» in the first line; but in the first draft of ed. 3 the stanza appeared thus:
For, in your Ear a moment--of the same Poor Earth from which that Human Whisper came, The luckless Mould in which Mankind was cast They did compose, and call'd him by the name.
In ed. 3 the first line was altered to--
Listen--a moment listen!--Of the same, etc.
XXXIX. In ed. 2:
On the parcht herbage but may steal below.
XL. In ed. 2:
As then the Tulip for her wonted sup Of Heavenly Vintage lifts her chalice up, Do you, twin offspring of the soil, till Heav'n To Earth invert you like an empty Cup.
In the first draft of ed. 3 the stanza is the same as in edd. 3 and 4, except that the second line is--
Of Wine from Heav'n her little Tass lifts up.
XLI. In ed. 2 and the first draft of ed. 3:
Oh, plagued no more with Human or Divine To-morrow's tangle to itself resign.
XLII. In ed. 2:
And if the Cup you drink, the Lip you press, End in what All begins and ends in--Yes; Imagine then you _are_ what heretofore You _were_--hereafter you shall not be less.
The first draft of ed. 3 agrees with edd. 3 and 4, except that the first line is--
And if the Cup, and if the Lip you press.
STANZA
XLIII. In ed. 2:
So when at last the Angel of the drink Of Darkness finds you by the river-brink, And, proffering his Cup, invites your Soul Forth to your Lips to quaff it--do not shrink.
In the first draft of ed. 3 the only change made was from «proffering» to «offering,» but in ed. 3 the stanza assumed the form in which it also appeared in ed. 4. The change from «the Angel» to «that Angel» was made in MS. by FitzGerald in a copy of ed. 4.
XLIV. In ed. 2:
Is't not a shame--is't not a shame for him So long in this Clay suburb to abide!
XLV. In ed. 2:
But that is but a Tent wherein may rest.
XLVI. In ed. 2:
And fear not lest Existence closing _your_ Account, should lose, or know the type no more.
XLVII. In ed. 2:
As much as Ocean of a pebble-cast.
In ed. 3:
As the SEV'N SEAS should heed a pebble-cast.
XLVIII. In ed. 2:
One Moment in Annihilation's Waste, One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste-- The Stars are setting, and the Caravan Draws to the Dawn of Nothing--Oh make haste.
In the first draft of ed. 3 the third line originally stood:
Before the starting Caravan has reach'd
the rest of the stanza being as in edd. 3 and 4.
STANZA
XLIX. In ed. 2:
A Hair, they say, divides the False and True.
The change from «does» to «may» in the last line was made by FitzGerald in MS.
L. In ed. 2:
A Hair, they say, divides the False and True.
LII. In edd. 2 and 3:
He does Himself contrive, enact, behold.
LIII. In the first draft of ed. 3:
To-morrow, when You shall be You no more.
LIV. In ed. 2:
Better be merry with the fruitful Grape.
LV. In ed. 2:
You know, my Friends, how bravely in my House For a new Marriage I did make Carouse.
LVII. In ed. 2:
Have squared the Year to Human Compass, eh? If so, by striking from the Calendar.
LXII. In ed. 2
When the frail Cup is crumbled into Dust!
LXIII. In ed. 2:
The Flower that once is blown for ever dies.
LXV. In edd. 2 and 3:
They told their fellows, and to Sleep return'd.
LXVI. In ed. 2:
And after many days my Soul return'd And said, «Behold, Myself am Heav'n and Hell.»
LXVII. In ed. 2:
And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire.
LXVIII. In ed. 2:
Of visionary Shapes that come and go Round with this Sun-illumin'd Lantern held.
LXIX. In ed. 2:
Impotent Pieces of the Game He plays.
LXX. In ed. 2:
But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes.
STANZA
LXXII. In ed. 2 and the first draft of ed. 3:
And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky.
In edd. 2 and 3:
As impotently rolls as you or I.
LXXIX. In ed. 2:
Pure Gold for what he lent us dross-allay'd.
LXXXI. In ed. 2:
For all the Sin the Face of wretched Man Is black with--Man's Forgiveness give--and take!
LXXXIII. In ed. 2:
And once again there gather'd a scarce heard Whisper among them; as it were, the stirr'd Ashes of some all but extinguisht Tongue Which mine ear kindled into living Word.
LXXXIV. In ed. 2:
My Substance from the common Earth was ta'en, That He who subtly wrought me into Shape Should stamp me back to shapeless Earth again?
LXXXV. In ed. 2
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!»
LXXXVI. In ed. 2:
None answer'd this, but after silence spake.
LXXXVII. In ed. 2:
Thus with the Dead as with the Living, _What?_ And _Why?_ so ready, but the _Wherefor_ not, One on a sudden peevishly exclaim'd, «Which is the Potter, pray, and which the Pot?»
STANZA
LXXXVIII. In ed. 2:
Said one--«Folks of a surly Master tell, And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell; They talk of some sharp Trial of us--Pish! He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well.»
In the first draft of ed. 3. the stanza begins:
«Why,» said another, «Dismal people tell Of an old Savage who will toss to Hell The luckless Pots,» etc.
LXXXIX. In ed. 2:
«Well,» said another, «Whoso will, let try.»
XC. In ed. 2:
One spied the little Crescent all were seeking.
XCI. In ed. 2:
And wash my Body whence the Life has died.
XCIII. In ed. 2:
Have done my credit in Men's eye much wrong.
XCV. In ed. 2:
One half so precious as the ware they sell.
XCVII. In ed. 2:
Toward which the fainting Traveller might spring.
XCVIII. In ed. 2:
Oh if the World were but to re-create, That we might catch ere closed the Book of Fate, And make The Writer on a fairer leaf Inscribe our names, or quite obliterate!
XCIX. In ed. 2:
Ah Love! could you and I with Fate conspire.
C. In ed. 2:
But see! The rising Moon of Heav'n again Looks for us, Sweet-heart, through the quivering Plane: How oft hereafter rising will she look Among those leaves--for one of us in vain!
STANZA
CI. In ed. 2:
And when Yourself with silver Foot shall pass.
In the first draft of ed. 3 «Foot» is changed to «step.»
In ed. 3:
And in your blissful errand reach the spot.
STANZAS WHICH APPEAR IN THE SECOND EDITION ONLY
XIV. Were it not Folly, Spider-like to spin The Thread of present Life away to win-- What? for ourselves, who know not if we shall Breathe out the very Breath we now breathe in!
XX. (This stanza is quoted in the note to stanza XVIII. in the third and fourth editions.)
XXVIII. Another Voice, when I am sleeping, cries, «The Flower should open with the Morning skies.» And a retreating Whisper, as I wake-- «The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.»
XLIV. Do you, within your little hour of Grace, The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace, Before the Mother back into her arms Fold, and dissolve you in a last embrace.
LXV. If but the Vine and Love-abjuring Band Are in the Prophet's Paradise to stand, Alack, I doubt the Prophet's Paradise Were empty as the hollow of one's Hand.
LXXVII. For let Philosopher and Doctor preach Of what they will, and what they will not--each Is but one Link in an eternal Chain That none can slip, or break, or over-reach.
LXXXVI. Nay, but, for terror of his wrathful Face, I swear I will not call Injustice Grace, Not one Good Fellow of the Tavern but Would kick so poor a Coward from the place.
XC. And once again there gather'd a scarce heard Whisper among them; as it were, the stirr'd Ashes of some all but extinguisht Tongue, Which mine ear kindled into living Word.
(In the third and fourth editions stanza LXXXIII. takes the place of this.)
XCIX. Whither resorting from the vernal Heat Shall Old Acquaintance Old Acquaintance greet, Under the Branch that leans above the Wall To shed his Blossom over head and feet.
(This was retained in the first draft of ed. 3.)
CVII. Better, oh better, cancel from the Scroll Of Universe one luckless Human Soul, Than drop by drop enlarge the Flood that rolls Hoarser with Anguish as the Ages Roll.
QUATRAINS OF OMAR KHAYYAM
COMPARATIVE TABLE OF STANZAS IN THE FOUR[100] EDITIONS OF FITZGERALD
Ed. 1 Ed. 2 Edd. 3 and 4 I I I II II II III III III IV IV IV V V V VI VI VI VII VII VII VIII IX IX IX X X X XI XI XI XII XII XII XIII XIII XIII XV XIV XIV XVII XVI XV XVI XV XVI XVIII XVII XVII XIX XVIII XVIII XXIV XIX XIX XXV XX XX XXI XXI XXI XXII XXII XXII XXIII XXIII XXIII XXVI XXIV XXIV XXVII XXV XXV XXIX XXVI XXVI LXVI LXIII XXVII XXX XXVII XXVIII XXXI XXVIII XXIX XXXII XXIX XXX XXXIII XXX XXXI XXXIV XXXI XXXII XXXV XXXII XXXIII XXXVII XXXIV XXXIV XXXVIII XXXV XXXV XXXIX XXXVI XXXVI XL XXXVII XXXVII XXXVIII XLIX XLVIII XXXIX LVI LIV XL LVII LV XLI LVIII LVI XLII LX LVIII XLIII LXI LIX XLIV LXII LX XLV XLVI LXXIII LXVIII XLVII XLV XLII XLVIII XLVI XLIII XLIX LXXIV LXIX L LXXV LXX LI LXXVI LXXI LII LXXVIII LXXII LIII LXXIX LXXIII LIV LXXXI LXXV LV LXXXII LXXVI LVI LXXXIII LXXVII LVII LXXXVII LXXX LVIII LXXXVIII LXXXI LIX LXXXIX LXXXII LX XCIV LXXXVII LXI XCI LXXXIV LXII XCII LXXXV LXIII XCIII LXXXVI LXIV XCV LXXXVIII LXV XCVI LXXXIX LXVI XCVII XC LXVII XCVIII XCI LXVIII C XCII LXIX CI XCIII LXX CII XCIV LXXI CIII XCV LXXII CIV XCVI LXXIII CVIII XCIX LXXIV CIX C LXXV CX CI VIII VIII XIV Note on XX XVIII
XXVIII XXXVI XXXIII XLI XXXVIII XLII XXXIX XLIII XL XLIV XLVII XLVI XLVIII XLVII L XLIX LI L LII LI LIII LII LIV LIII LV XLI LIX LVII LXIII LXI LXIV LXII LXV LXVII LXIV LXVIII LXV LXIX XLIV LXX XLV LXXI LXVI LXXII LXVII LXXVII LXXX LXXIV LXXXIV LXXVIII LXXXV LXXIX LXXXVI XC LXXXIII XCIX CV XCVII CVI XCVIII CVII
NOTE
It must be admitted that FitzGerald took great liberties with the original in his version of Omar Khayyam. The first stanza is entirely his own, and in stanza XXXI. of the fourth edition (XXXVI. in the second) he has introduced two lines from Attar. (See «Letters,» p. 251.) In stanza LXXXI. (fourth edition), writes Professor Cowell, «There is no original for the line about the snake: I have looked for it in vain in Nicolas; but I have always supposed that the last line is FitzGerald's mistaken version of Quatr. 236 in Nicolas's ed. which runs thus:
«O thou who knowest the secrets of every one's mind, Who graspest every one's hand in the hour of weakness, O God, give me repentance and accept my excuses, O thou who givest repentance and acceptest the excuses of every one.
«FitzGerald mistook the meaning of _giving_ and _accepting_ as used here, and so invented his last line out of his own mistake. I wrote to him about it when I was in Calcutta; but he never cared to alter it.»
THE
QUATRAINS OF OMAR KHAYYAM
TRANSLATED BY
E.H. WHINFIELD, M.A.
INTRODUCTION
Omar is a poet who can hardly be translated satisfactorily otherwise than in verse. Prose does well enough for narrative or didactic poetry, where the main things to be reproduced are the matter and substance, but it is plainly contra-indicated in the case of poetry like Omar's, where the matter is little else than «the commonplaces of the lyric ode and the tragic chorus,» and where nearly the whole charm consists in the style and the manner, the grace of the expression and the melody of the versification. A literal prose version of such poetry must needs be unsatisfactory, because it studiously ignores the chief points in which the attractiveness of the original consists, and deliberately renounces all attempt to reproduce them.
In deciding on the form to be taken by a new translation of Omar, the fact of the existence of a previous verse translation of universally acknowledged merit ought not, of course, to be left out of account. The successor of a translator like Mr. Fitzgerald, who ventures to write verse, and especially verse of the metre which he has handled with such success, cannot help feeling at almost every step that he is provoking comparisons very much to his own disadvantage. But I do not think this consideration ought to deter him from using the vehicle which everything else indicates as the proper one.
As regards metre, there is no doubt that the quatrain of ten-syllable lines which has been tried by Hammer, Bicknell, and others, and has been raised by Mr. Fitzgerald almost to the rank of a recognised English metre, is the best representative of the _Ruba'i_. It fairly satisfies Conington's canon, viz., that there ought to be some degree of metrical conformity between the measure of the original and the translation, for though it does not exactly correspond with the _Ruba'i_, it very clearly suggests it. In particular, it copies what is perhaps the most marked feature of the _Ruba'i_,--the interlinking of the four lines by the repetition in the fourth line of the rhyme of the first and second. Mr Swinburne's modification of this metre, in which the rhyme is carried on from one quatrain to the next, is not applicable to poems like Omar's, all of which are isolated in sense from the context. Alexandrines would, of course, correspond more nearly than decasyllables with _Ruba'i_ lines in number of syllables, and they have been extensively used by Bodenstedt and other German translators of the metre but, whatever may be the case in German, they are apt to read very heavily in English, even when constructed by skilful verse-makers, and an inferior workman can hardly hope to manage them with anything like success. The shorter length of the decasyllable line is not altogether a disadvantage to the translator. Owing to the large number of monosyllables in English, it is generally adequate to hold the contents of a Persian line a syllable or two longer; and a line erring, if at all, on the side of brevity, has at any rate the advantage of obliging the translator to eschew modern diffuseness, and of making him try to copy the «classical parsimony,» the archaic terseness and condensation of the original.
The poet Cowper has a remark on translation from Latin which is eminently true also of translation from Persian. He says, «That is epigrammatic and witty in Latin which would be perfectly insipid in English.... If a Latin poem is neat, elegant, and musical, it is enough, but English readers are not so easily satisfied.» Much of Omar's matter, when literally translated, seems very trite and commonplace, many of the «conceits,» of which he is so fond, very frigid, and even his peculiar grotesque humour often loses its savour in an English _replica_. The translator is often tempted to elevate a too grovelling sentiment, to «sharpen a point» here and there, to trick out a commonplace with some borrowed modern embellishment. But this temptation is one to be resisted as far as possible. According to the _Hadis_, «The business of a messenger is simply to deliver his message,» and he must not shrink from displaying the naked truth. A translator who writes in verse must of course claim the liberty of altering the form of the expression over and over again, but the substituted expressions ought to be in keeping with the author's style, and on the same plane of sentiment as his. It is beyond the province of a translator to attempt the task of «painting the lily.» But it is easier to lay down correct principles of translation than to observe them unswervingly in one's practice.
As regards subject matter, Omar's quatrains may be classed under the following six heads:--
I. _Shikayat i rozgar_--Complaints of «the wheel of heaven,» or fate, of the world's injustice, of the loss of friends, of man's limited faculties and destinies.
II. _Hajw_--Satires on the hypocrisy of the «unco' guid,» the impiety of the pious, the ignorance of the learned, and the untowardness of his own generation.
III. _Firakiya_ and _Wisaliya_--Love-poems on the sorrows of separation and the joys of reunion with the Beloved, earthly or spiritual.
IV. _Bahariya_--Poems in praise of spring, gardens, and flowers.
V. _Kufriya_--Irreligious and antinomian utterances, charging the sins of the creature to the account of the Creator, scoffing at the Prophet's Paradise and Hell, singing the praises of wine and pleasure--preaching _ad nauseam_, «eat and drink (especially drink), for to-morrow ye die.»
VI. _Munajat_--Addresses to the Deity, now in the ordinary language of devotion, bewailing sins and imploring pardon, now in Mystic phraseology, craving deliverance from «self,» and union with the «Truth» (_Al Hakk_), or Deity, as conceived by the Mystics.
The «complaints» may obviously be connected with the known facts of the poet's life, by supposing them to have been prompted by the persecution to which he was subjected on account of his opinions. His remarks on the Houris and other sacred subjects raised such a feeling against him that at one time his life was in danger, and the wonder is that he escaped at all in a city like Naishapur, where the _odium theologicum_ raged so fiercely as to occasion a sanguinary civil war. In the year 489 A.H., as we learn from Ibn Al Athir,[101] the orthodox banded themselves together under the leadership of Abul Kasim and Muhammad, the chiefs of the Hanefites and the Shafeites, in order to exterminate the Kerramians or Anthropomorphist heretics, and succeeded in putting many of them to death, and destroying all their establishments. It may be also that after the death of his patron, Nizam ul Mulk, Omar lost his stipend and was reduced to poverty.
The satires probably owed their origin to the same cause. _Rien soulage comme la rhetorique_, and if Omar could not relieve his feelings by open abuse of his persecutors, he made up for it by the bitterness of his verses. The bitterness of his strictures on them was no doubt fully equalled by the rancour of their attacks upon him.
The love-poems are samples of a class of compositions much commoner in later poets than in Omar. Most of them probably bear a mystical meaning, for I doubt if Omar was a person very susceptible of the tender passion. He speaks with appreciation of «tulip cheeks» and «cypress forms,» but apparently recognises no attractions of a higher order in his fair friends.
The poems in praise of scenery again offer a strong contrast to modern treatment of the same theme. The only aspects of nature noticed by Omar are such as affect the senses agreeably--the bright flowers, the song of the nightingale, the grassy bank of the stream, and the shady garden associated in his mind with his convivial parties. The geographer translated by Sir W. Ouseley says of Naishapur, «The city is watered by a subterranean canal, which is conveyed to the fields and gardens, and there is a considerable stream that waters the city and the villages about it--this stream is named _Saka_. In all the provinces of Khorassan there is not any city larger than Naishapur, nor any blessed with a more pure and temperate air. » No doubt it was some of these gardens that called forth Omar's encomiums.
But it is in the _Kufriya_, or antinomian quatrains, and in the _Munajat_, or pious aspirations, that the most remarkable and characteristic features of Omar's poetry are exhibited. The glaring contrast between these two classes of his poetry has led his readers to take very opposite views of him, according as they looked at one or the other side of the shield. European critics, like his contemporaries, mostly consider him an infidel and a voluptuary «of like mind with Sardanapalus.» On the other hand, the Sufis have contrived to affix mystical and devotional meanings even to his most Epicurean quatrains; and this method of interpretation is nowadays as universally accepted in Persia and India as the Mystical interpretation of the Canticles is in Europe. But neither of these views can be accepted in its entirety. Even if the Sufi symbolism had been definitely formulated as early as Omar's time, which is very doubtful, common sense would forbid us to force a devotional meaning on the palpably Epicurean quatrains; and, on the other hand, unless we are prepared to throw over the authority of all the manuscripts, including the most ancient ones, we must reckon with the obviously Mystical and devotional quatrains. The essential contradiction in the tone and temper of these two sections of Omar's poetry cannot be glossed over, but calls imperatively for explanation.
His poems were obviously not all written at one period of his life, but from time to time, just as circumstances and mood suggested, and under the influence of the thoughts, passions, and desires which happened to be uppermost at the moment. It may be that the irreligious and Epicurean quatrains were written in youth, and the _Munajat_ in his riper years. But this hypothesis seems to be disproved by Sharastani's account of him, which is quite silent as to any such conversion or change of sentiment on his part, and also by the fact that he describes himself from first to last as a «_Dipsychus_» in grain, a halter between two opinions, and an _«Acrates_,» or back-slider, in his practice.
If his poems be considered not in the abstract, but in the light of history, taking into account his mental pedigree and his intellectual surroundings, a more plausible explanation of his inconsistencies readily presents itself. In his youth, as we know, he sat at the feet of the Suni theologian Imam Muaffik, and he was then no doubt thoroughly indoctrinated with the great Semitic conception of the One God, or, to use the expressive term of Muhammadan theology, «the Only Real Agent» (_Fa' il i Hakiki_). To minds dominated by the overwhelming sense of Almighty Power, everywhere present and working, there seems no room for Nature, or human will, or chance, or any other Ahriman whatsoever, to take the responsibility of all the evils in the world, the storms and the earthquakes, the Borgias and the Catilines. The «Only Real Agent» has to answer for all. In the most ancient document of Semitic religious speculation now extant, the Book of Job, we find expostulations of the boldest character addressed to the Deity for permitting a righteous man to be stricken with unmerited misfortunes, though the writer ultimately concludes in a spirit of pious agnosticism and resignation to the inscrutable dispensations of Providence. In the Book of Ecclesiastes again, the same problems are handled, but in a somewhat different temper. The «weary king Ecclesiast» remarks that there is one event to all, to him that sacrificeth and him that sacrificeth not--that injustice and wrong seem eternally triumphant, that God has made things crooked, and none can make them straight; and concludes now in favour of a sober «_carpe diem_» philosophy, now in favour of a devout «fear of the Lord.» Of course the manner in which the serious Hebrew handles these matters is very different from the levity and flippancy of the volatile Persian, but it can hardly be denied that the Ecclesiast and Omar resemble one another in the double and contradictory nature of their practical conclusions.
No sooner was Islam established than the same problem of the existence of evil in the handiwork of the Almighty Author and Governor of all began to trouble the Moslem theologians, and by their elaboration of the doctrine of Predestination they managed to aggravate its difficulties.
One of the chief «roots» of their discussions was how to reconcile the Divine justice and benevolence with the Divine prescience,--the predestination of some vessels to honour, and others to dishonour,--the pre-ordainment of all things by a kind of mechanical necessity (_Jabr_), leaving no possibility of the occurrence of any events except those which actually do occur. The consideration of one corollary of a similar doctrine moved the pious and gentle Cowper to use language of indignant dissent; and there is high theological authority for the view that it is calculated «to thrust some into desperation,» but to stimulate the piety of others. Omar is constantly dwelling on this doctrine, and he seems to be affected by it in the double way here mentioned.
Other influences which acted on Omar must not be left out of account. Born as he was in Khorassan, «the focus of Persian culture,» he was no doubt familiar with speculations of the Moslem philosophers, Alkindi, Alfarabi, and Avicenna,[102] the last of whom he may possibly have seen. And though, think he was not himself a Sufi, in the sense of being affiliated to any Sufi order, he can hardly have been unaffected by the mysticism of which his predecessor in _Ruba'i_ writing, Abu Sa'id bin Abul Khair, his patron Nizam ul Mulk, and his distinguished countryman Imam Ghazali were all strong adherents. His philosophical studies would naturally stimulate his sceptical and irreligious dispositions, while his Mystic leanings would operate mainly in the contrary direction.
If this explanation of the inconsistencies in his poetry be correct, it is obvious that the parallel often sought to be traced between him and Lucretius has no existence. Whatever he was, he was not an Atheist. To him, as to other Muhammadans of his time, to deny the existence of the Deity would seem to be tantamount to denying the existence of the world and of himself. And the conception of «laws of nature» was also one quite foreign to his habits of thought. As Deutsch says, «To a Shemite, Nature is simply what has been begotten, and is ruled absolutely by One Absolute Power.»
Hammer compares him to Voltaire, but in reality he is a Voltaire and something more. He has much of Voltaire's flippancy and irreverence. His treatment of the doctrine of the Resurrection of the Body, for instance, which Muhammad took from Christianity, and travestied by the embellishments he added to it, is altogether in Voltaire's manner. And his insistence on the all importance of kindness and charity recalls the better side of Voltaire's character, viz., his kindness to Calas, and the other victims of ecclesiastical persecution. But Omar also possessed, what Voltaire did not, strong religious emotions, which at times overrode his rationalism, and found expression in those devotional and Mystical quatrains, which offer such a strong contrast to the rest of his poetry.
E.H. WHINFIELD
NOTE
The text has been framed from a comparison of the following authorities:--
I. The Bodleian manuscript, No. 140 of the Ouseley Collection, containing 158 quatrains.
II. The Calcutta Asiatic Society's manuscript, No. 1548, containing 516 quatrains.
III. The India Office manuscript, No. 2420, ff. 212 to 267, containing 512 quatrains.
IV. The Calcutta edition of 1252 A.H., containing 438 quatrains, with an appendix of 54 more, which the editor says he found in a Bayaz, or common-place book, after the others had been printed.
V. The Paris edition of M. Nicolas, containing 464 quatrains.
VI. The Lucknow lithographed edition, containing 763 quatrains.
VII. A fragment of an edition begun by the late Mr. Blochmann, containing only 62 quatrains.
QUATRAINS OF OMAR KHAYYAM
1.
At dawn a cry through all the tavern shrilled, «Arise my brethren of the revellers' guild, That I may fill our measure, full of wine Or e'er the measure of our days be filled.»
1. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. Bl. considers this quatrain Mystical.
2.
Who was it brought thee here at nightfall, who? Forth from the harem in this manner, who? To him who in thy absence burns as fire, And trembles like hot air, who was it, who?
2. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. Bl. says the omission of the copulative _wa_ in line 4 of the original is characteristic of Khayyam. In line 4 I follow Blochmann's rendering. It may mean, «when the wind blows.»
3.
'Tis but a day we sojourn here below, And all the gain we get is grief and woe, And then, leaving life's riddles all unsolved, And burdened with regrets, we have to go.
3. N.
4.
Khaja! grant one request, and only one, Wish me God-speed, and get your preaching done; I walk aright, 'tis you who see awry; Go! heal your purblind eyes, leave me alone.
4. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J.
5.
Arise! and come, and of thy courtesy Resolve my weary heart's perplexity, And fill my goblet, so that I may drink, Or e'er they make their goblets out of me.
5. Bl. C. L. N A. I. J. The heart is supposed to be the seat of reason. «Or ever» and «or e'er» are both found in Elizabethan English. Abbot, Shakespearian Grammar, p. 89.
6.
When I am dead, with wine my body lave, For obit chant a bacchanalian stave, And, if you need me at the day of doom, Beneath the tavern threshold seek my grave.
6. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J.
7.
Since no one can assure thee of the morrow, Rejoice thy heart to-day, and banish sorrow With moonbright wine, fair moon, for heaven's moon. Will look for us in vain on many a morrow.
7. Bl. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. Line 2 is in metre 14.
8.
Let lovers all distraught and frenzied be, And flown with wine, and reprobates, like me; When sober, I find everything amiss, But in my cups cry, «Let what will be, be.»
8. Bl. L. N. Line 3 is in metre 13.
9.
In Allah's name, say, wherefore set the wise Their hearts upon this house of vanities? Whene'er they think to rest them from their toils, Death takes them by the hand, and says, «Arise.»
9. Bl. C. L. N. A. I.
10.
Men say the Koran holds all heavenly lore, But on its pages seldom care to pore; The lucid lines engraven on the bowl,-- _That_ is the text they dwell on evermore.
10. Bl. L. N. A. B. I. J. Lines were engraven on the bowl to measure out the draughts. Bl.
11.
Blame not the drunkards, you who wine eschew, Had I but grace, I would abstain like you, And mark me, vaunting zealot, you commit A hundredfold worse sins than drunkards do.
11. Bl. C. L. N. A. I.
12.
What though 'tis fair to view, this form of man, I know not why the heavenly Artisan Hath set these tulip cheeks and cypress forms To deck the mournful halls of earth's divan.
12. Bl. C. L. N. A. I.
13.
My fire gives forth no smoke-cloud here below, My stock-in-trade no profit here below, And you, who call me tavern-haunter, know There is indeed no tavern here below
13. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. The anacoluthon in line 3, and the missing rhyme before the burden, in line 4, are characteristic of Khayyam. Bl.
14.
Thus spake an idol to his worshipper, «Why dost thou worship this dead stone, fair sir? 'Tis because He who gazeth through thine eyes, Doth some part of His charms on it confer.»
14. L. Meaning, all is of God, even idols.
15.
Whate'er thou doest, never grieve thy brother, Nor kindle fumes of wrath his peace to smother; Dost thou desire to taste eternal bliss, Vex thine own heart, but never vex another!
15. L. b. Line 1 is in metre 14.
16.
O Thou! to please whose love and wrath as well, Allah created heaven and likewise hell; Thou hast thy court in heaven, and I have naught, Why not admit me in thy courts to dwell?
16. Bl. L. The person addressed is the prophet Muhammad. The Sufis were fond of dwelling on the opposition between the beautiful and the terrible attributes of Deity.
17.
So many cups of wine will I consume, Its bouquet shall exhale from out my tomb, And every one that passes by shall halt, And reel and stagger with that mighty fume.
17. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J.
18.
Young wooer, charm all hearts with lover's art, Glad winner, lead thy paragon apart! A hundred Ka'bas equal not one heart, Seek not the Ka'ba, rather seek a heart!
18. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. Line 2, «In the presence seize the perfect heart.»
19.
What time, my cup in hand, its draughts I drain, And with rapt heart unconsciousness attain, Behold what wondrous miracles are wrought, Songs flow as water from my burning brain.
19. L. N.
20.
To-day is but a breathing space, quaff wine! Thou wilt not see again this life of thine; So, as the world becomes the spoil of time, Offer thyself to be the spoil of wine!
20. L. N.
21.
'Tis we who to wine's yoke our necks incline, And risk our lives to gain the smiles of wine; The henchman grasps the flagon by its throat And squeezes out the lifeblood of the vine.
21. L. N. Line 3 is in metre 19.
22.
Here in this tavern haunt I make my lair, Pawning for wine, heart, soul, and all I wear, Without a hope of bliss, or fear of bale, Rapt above water, earth, and fire, and air.
22. Bl. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
23.
Quoth fish to duck, «Twill be a sad affair, If this brook leaves its channel dry and bare»; To whom the duck, «When I am dead and roasted The brook may run with wine for aught I care.»
23. L. Meaning, «_Après nous le déluge_».
24.
From doubt to clear assurance is a breath, A breath from infidelity to faith; O precious breath! enjoy it while you may, 'Tis all that life can give, and then comes death.
24. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J.
25.
Ah! wheel of heaven to tyranny inclined, 'Twas e'er your wont to show yourself unkind; And, cruel earth, if they should cleave your breast, What store of buried jewels they would find!
25. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. «Wheel of heaven,» _i.e._, destiny, fortune. Sir Thomas Browne talks of the «wheel of things.»
26.
My life lasts but a day or two, and fast Sweeps by, like torrent stream or desert blast, Howbeit, of two days I take no heed,-- The day to come, and that already past.
26. Bl. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
27.
That pearl is from a mine unknown to thee, That ruby bears a stamp thou canst not see The tale of love some other tongue must tell, All our conjectures are mere phantasy.
27. Meaning, real love of God differs from the popular idea of it. Bl.
28.
Now with its joyful prime my age is rife, I quaff enchanting wine, and list to fife; Chide not at wine for all its bitter taste, Its bitterness sorts well with human life!
28. Bl. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
29.
O soul! whose lot it is to bleed with pain, And daily change of fortune to sustain, Into this body wherefore didst thou come, Seeing thou must at last go forth again?
29. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J.
30.
To-day is thine to spend, but not to-morrow, Counting on morrows breedeth naught but sorrow; Oh! squander not this breath that heaven hath lent thee, Nor make too sure another breath to borrow!
30. Bl. C. N. A. B. I.
31.
'Tis labour lost thus to all doors to crawl, Take thy good fortune, and thy bad withal; Know for a surety each must play his game, As from heaven's dice-box fate's dice chance to fall.
31. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Naksh_, the dots on dice.
32.
This jug did once, like me, love's sorrows taste, And bonds of beauty's tresses once embraced, This handle, which you see upon its side, Has many a time twined round a slender waist!
32. Bl. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
33.
Days changed to nights, ere you were born, or I, And on its business ever rolled the sky; See you tread gently on this dust--perchance 'Twas once the apple of some beauty's eye.
33. C. L. N. A. I. J.
34.
Pagodas, just as mosques, are homes of prayer, 'Tis prayer that church-bells chime unto the air, Yea, Church and Ka'ba, Rosary and Cross Are all but divers tongues of world-wide prayer.
34. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. Meaning, forms of faith are indifferent.
35.
'Twas writ at first, whatever was to be, By pen, unheeding bliss or misery, Yea, writ upon the tablet once for all, To murmur or resist is vanity.
35. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. Meaning, fate is heartless and resistless.
36.
There is a mystery I know full well, Which to all, good and bad, I cannot tell; My words are dark, but I cannot unfold The secrets of the «station» where I dwell.
36. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Hale_, a state of ecstasy.
37.
No base or light-weight coins pass current here, Of such a broom has swept our dwelling clear Forth from the tavern comes a sage and cries, «Drink! for ye all must sleep through ages drear»
37. Bl. L. N. Meaning, Mullahs' fables will not go down with us.
38.
With outward seeming we can cheat mankind, But to God's will we can but be resigned, The deepest wiles my cunning e'er devised, To balk resistless fate no way could find.
38. L. N. Meaning, weakness of human rule compared to the strength of Divine decrees.
39.
Is a friend faithless? spurn him as a foe; Upon trustworthy foes respect bestow; Hold healing poison for an antidote, And baneful sweets for deadly eisel know.
39. L. N. These gnomical epigrams are not common in Khayyam.
40.
No heart is there but bleeds when torn from Thee, No sight so clear but craves Thy face to see; And though perchance Thou carest not for them, No soul is there but pines with care for Thee.
40. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Jigar_, the liver, was considered to be the seat of love.
41.
Sobriety doth dry up all delight, And drunkenness doth drown my sense outright; There is a middle state, it is my life, Not altogether drunk, nor sober quite.
41. C. N. I. _Masti_ o: scan _mastiyo_. The Epicurean golden mean. See Ecclesiastes, vii, 16, 17.
42.
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?
42. C. N. A. B. I. J. _Pryalae_, a cup. So Job, «Thy hands have made me, yet thou dost destroy me.»
43.
Death's terrors spring from baseless phantasy, Death yields the tree of immortality; Since 'Isa breathed new life into my soul, Eternal death has washed its hands of me!
43. L. N. Meaning, the Sufi doctrine of _Baka ba'd ul fana_. See _Gulshan i Raz_, p. 31.
44.
Like tulips in the Spring your cups lift up, And, with a tulip-cheeked companion, sup With joy your wine, or e'er this azure wheel With some unlooked-for blast upset your cup.
44. C. L. N. A. I. J.
45.
Facts will not change to humour man's caprice, So vaunt not human powers, but hold your peace; Here must we stay, weighed down with grief for this, That we were born so late, so soon decease.
45. C. L. N. A. I. J. Meaning, the futility of striving against predestination. _Ank_, for _anki_. Bl., Prosody 13.
46.
Khayyam! why weep you that your life is bad? What boots it thus to mourn? Rather be glad. He that sins not can make no claim to mercy, Mercy was made for sinners--be not sad.
46. C. L. N. A. B. I. See note on No. 130
47.
All mortal ken is bounded by the veil, To see beyond man's sight is all too frail; Yea! earth's dark bosom is his only home;-- Alas! 'twere long to tell the doleful tale.
47. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
48.
This faithless world, my home, I have surveyed, Yea, and with all my wit deep question made, But found no moon with face so bright as thine, No cypress in such stateliness arrayed.
48. L. N.
49.
In synagogue and cloister, mosque and school, Hell's terrors and heaven's lures men's bosoms rule, But they who master Allah's mysteries, Sow not this empty chaff their hearts to fool.
49. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. Meaning, souls re-absorbed in the Divine essence have no concern with the material heaven and hell.
50.
You see the world, but all you see is naught, And all you say, and all you hear is naught, Naught the four quarters of the mighty earth, The secrets treasured in your chamber naught.
50. L. N. Meaning, all is illusion (_Maya_).
51.
I dreamt a sage said, «Wherefore life consume In sleep? Can sleep make pleasure's roses bloom? For gather not with death's twin-brother sleep, Thou wilt have sleep enough within thy tomb!»
51. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. So Homer, _Kasignetos thanatoio_.
52.
If the heart knew life's secrets here below, At death 'twould know God's secrets too, I trow; But, if you know naught here, while still yourself, To-morrow, stripped of self, what can you know?
52. C. L. N. A. I. In line 2 scan _Ilahi_. Bl., Prosody, p. 7.
53.
On that dread day, when wrath shall rend the sky, And darkness dim the bright stars' galaxy, I'll seize the Loved One by His skirt, and cry, «Why hast Thou doomed these guiltless ones to die?»
53. C. L. N. A. I. J. See Koran, lxxxii. 1. Note the _alif i wasls_ in lines 1 and 2. In line 4 scan _kata lat_, transposing the last vowel. Bl., Prosody, p. ii.
54.
To knaves Thy secret we must not confide, To comprehend it is to fools denied, See then to what hard case Thou doomest men, Our hopes from one and all perforce we hide.
54. C. L. N. A. B. I. There is a variation of this, beginning _Asrar i jahan_.
55.
Cupbearer! what though fate's blows here betide us, And a safe resting-place be here denied us, So long as the bright wine-cup stands between us, We have the very Truth at hand to guide us.
55. C. L. N. A. I. In line 3 scan _mayast_. Bl., Prosody, p. 13, and note _tashdid_ on _hakk_ dropped. Ibid, p. iv.
56.
Long time in wine and rose I took delight, But then my business never went aright; Since wine could not accomplish my desire, I have abandoned and forsworn it quite.
56. C. L. N. A. I. J.
57.
Bring wine! my heart with dancing spirits teems, Wake! fortune's waking is as fleeting dreams; Quicksilver-like our days are swift of foot, And youthful fire subsides as torrent streams.
57. C. L. N. A. I. J. In line 3 scan _bedariyi_.
58.
Love's devotees, not Moslems here you see, Not Solomons, but ants of low degree; Here are but faces wan and tattered rags, No store of Cairene cloth or silk have we.
58. L. N. For the story of Solomon and the ants, see Koran, xxvii., 18. _Kasab_, linen made in Egypt.
59.
My law it is in pleasure's paths to stray, My creed to shun the theologic fray; I wedded Luck, and offered her a dower, She said, «I want none, so thy heart be gay.»
59. C. L. N. A. I. J.
60.
From mosque an outcast, and to church a foe, Allah! of what clay didst thou form me so? Like sceptic monk, or ugly courtesan, No hopes have I above, no joys below.
60. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Ummed_ has the _tashdid ob metrum_. Bl., Prosody 9. Line 2 is in metre 17. _Gil i mara_ for _gil i man ra_, Vullers, pp. 173 and 193.
61.
Men's lusts, like house-dogs, still the house distress With clamour, barking for mere wantonness; Foxes are they, and sleep the sleep of hares; Crafty as wolves, as tigers pitiless.
61. C. L. N. A. I. J. «Sleep of hares,» deceit.
62.
Yon turf, fringing the margent of the stream, As down upon a cherub's lip might seem, Or growth from dust of buried tulip cheeks; Tread not that turf with scorn, or light esteem!
62. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Juyiy_: the _ya_ of _juy_ is hamzated because followed by another _ya_. Vullers, p. 24.
63.
Hearts with the light of love illumined well, Whether in mosque or synagogue they dwell, Have _their_ names written in the book of love, Unvexed by hopes of heaven or fears of hell.
63. C. L. N. A. I. J. Compare Hafiz, Ode 79: «Wherever love is, there is the light of the Beloved's face.»
64.
One draught of wine outweighs the realm of Tus, Throne of Kobad and crown of Kai Kawus; Sweeter are sighs that lovers heave at morn, Than all the groanings zealot breasts produce.
64. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Kawus_ is the old spelling.
65.
Though Moslems for my sins condemn and chide me, Like heathens to my idol I confide me; Yea, when I perish of a drunken bout, I'll call on wine, whatever doom betide me.
65. L. N.
66.
In drinking thus it is not my design To riot, or transgress the law divine, No! to attain unconsciousness of self Is the sole cause I drink me drunk with wine.
66. C. L. N. A. I. J. Perhaps a hit at the orthodox Sufis.
67.
Drunkards are doomed to hell, so men declare, Believe it not, 'tis but a foolish scare; Heaven will be empty as this hand of mine, If none who love good drink find entrance there.
67. C. L. N. A. I. J. Line 4 is in metre 17.
68.
'Tis wrong, according to the strict Koran, To drink in Rajah, likewise in Sha'ban, God and the Prophet claim those months as theirs; Was Ramazan then made for thirsty man?
68. C. L. N. A. I. J. The point, of course, is that Ramazan is the Mahammadan Lent.
69.
Now Ramazan is come, no wine must flow, Our simple pastimes we must now forego, The wine we have in store we must not drink, Nor on our mistresses one kiss bestow.
69. L. N. Does _Sada_ mean the winter feast?
70.
What is the world? A _caravanserai_, A pied pavilion of night and day; A feast whereat a thousand Jamshids sat, A couch whereon a thousand Bahrams lay.
70. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Wamanda_, «leavings.»
71.
Now that your roses bloom with flowers of bliss, To grasp your goblets be not so remiss, Drink while you may! Time is a treacherous foe, You may not see another day like this.
71. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Bar bar_ «blooming, on the branch,» _i.e._, you are still young. Bl.
72.
Here in this palace, where Bahram held sway, The wild roes drop their young, and tigers stray; And that great hunter king--ah! well-a-day! Now to the hunter death is fallen a prey.
72. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Daro_: see Bl., Pros. 11.
73.
Down fall the tears from skies enwrapt in gloom, Without this drink, the flowers could never bloom! As now these flowerets yield delight to me, So shall my dust yield flowers,--God knows for whom.
73. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. In line 4 _ta_ is the «_ta i tajahul_,» meaning, «I do not know whether,» «perhaps.» Bl.
74.
To-day is Friday, as the Moslem says, Drink then from bowls served up in quick relays; Suppose on common days you drink one bowl, To-day drink two, for 'tis the prince of days.
74. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. Friday is the day «of assembly,» or Sabbath.
75.
The _very_ wine a myriad forms sustains, And to take shapes of plants and creatures deigns But deem not that its essence ever dies, Its forms may perish, but its self remains.
75. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. On this Bl. notes «The Arabic form _hayawan_ is required by the metre.» And _Suwar_ is the Arabic plural, used as a singular. Bl., Prosody 5. Wine means the divine «_Noumenon_.» _Gulshan i Raz_, 825.
76.
'Tis naught but smoke this people's fire doth bear, For my well-being not a soul doth care; With hands fate makes me lift up in despair, I grasp men's skirts, but find no succour there.
76. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. Scan _tayifa_.
77.
This bosom friend, on whom you so rely, Seems to clear wisdom's eyes an enemy; Choose not your friends from this rude multitude, Their converse is a plague 'tis best to fly.
77. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. The MSS. transpose the lines.
78.
O foolish one! this moulded earth is naught, This particoloured vault of heaven is naught; Our sojourn in this seat of life and death Is but one breath, and what is that but naught?
78. Bl. L. N. _Shakl i mujassam_, «the earth.» Bl.
79.
Some wine, a Houri (Houris if there be), A green bank by a stream, with minstrelsy;-- Toil not to find a better Paradise If other Paradise indeed there be!
79. Bl. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Dozakh i farsuda_, «an old hell,» _i.e._, vain things which create a hell for you. Bl.
80.
To the wine-house I saw the sage repair, Bearing a wine-cup, and a mat for prayer; I said, «O Shaikh, what does this conduct mean?» Said he, «Go drink! the world is naught but air.»
80. N.
81.
The Bulbul to the garden winged his way, Viewed lily cups, and roses smiling gay, Cried in ecstatic notes, «O live your life, You never will re-live this fleeting day.»
81. N. The MSS. have a variation of this beginning, _Bulbul chu. Jam . ra_. See Bl., Prosody, p. 12.
82.
Thy body is a tent, where harbourage The Sultan spirit takes for one brief age; When he departs, comes the tent-pitcher death, Strikes it, and onward moves, another stage.
82. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Manzil_, in line 2, «lodging»; in line 3, «stage» _Khimaye_, a «tent.»
83.
Khayyam, who long time stitched the tents of learning, Has fallen into a furnace, and lies burning, Death's shears have cut his thread of life asunder, Fate's brokers sell him off with scorn and spurning.
83. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
84.
In the sweet spring a grassy bank I sought, And thither wine, and a fair Houri brought; And, though the people called me graceless dog, Gave not to Paradise another thought!
84. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. _Batar_, a contraction. See Bl., Prosody, p. 10.
85.
Sweet is rose-ruddy wine in goblets gay, And sweet are lute and harp and roundelay; But for the zealot who ignores the cup, 'Tis sweet when he is twenty leagues away!
85. N. The MSS. have a variation of this. Note _Khush_.
86.
Life, void of wine, and minstrels with their lutes, And the soft murmurs of Irakian flutes, Were nothing worth: I scan the world and see: Save pleasure, life yields only bitter fruits.
86. L. N. See an answer to this in No. 97.
87.
Make haste! soon must you quit this life below, And pass the veil, and Allah's secrets know, Make haste to take your pleasure while you may, You wot not whence you come, nor whither go.
87. C. L. N. A. I. In line 3 scan _nidaniyaz_.
88.
Depart we must! what boots it then to be, To walk in vain desires continually? Nay, but if heaven vouchsafe no place of rest, What power to cease our wanderings have we?
88. N. In line 3 scan _jayiga_. Bl., Prosody, p. 15.
89.
To chant wine's praises is my daily task, I live encompassed by cup, bowl and flask; Zealot! if reason be thy guide, then know That guide of me doth ofttimes guidance ask.
89. C. L. N. A. I. J. In line 1 scan _maddahiyi_; and compare Horace, «_Edocet artes; Fecundi calices quem non fecere disertum._»
90.
O men of morals! why do ye defame, And thus misjudge me? I am not to blame. Save weakness for the grape, and female charms, What sins of mine can any of ye name?
90. C. L. N. A. I. J. This change of persons is called _Iltifat_. Gladwin, Persian Rhetoric, p. 56.
91.
Who treads in passion's footsteps here below, A helpless pauper will depart, I trow; Remember who you are, and whence you come. Consider what you do, and whither go.
91. C. L. N. A. I. _Khabarat_: see Bl., Prosody, p. v.
92.
Skies like a zone our weary lives enclose, And from our tear-stained eyes a Jihun flows; Hell is a fire enkindled of our griefs; Heaven but a moment's peace, stolen from our woes.
92. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. This balanced arrangement of similes is called _Tirsi'a_. Gladwin, p. 5.
93.
I drown in sin--show me Thy clemency! My soul is dark--make me Thy light to see! A heaven that must be earned by painful works, I call a wage, not a gift fair and free.
93. C. L. N. A. I. J. Arabic words like _raza_, drop the _hamza_ in Persian, except with the _izafat_: (Bl., Prosody 14). For this _hamza, ya_ is often used, as here.
94.
Did He who made me fashion me for hell, Or destine me for heaven? I cannot tell. Yet will I not renounce cup, lute and love, Nor earthly cash for heavenly credit sell.
94. C. L. N. A. B. I. In line 4 the _izafat_ is dropped after silent _he_. Bl., Prosody, p. 15.
95.
From right and left the censors came and stood, Saying, «Renounce this wine, this foe of good»; But if wine be the foe of holy faith, By Allah, right it is to drink its blood!
95. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. See Koran, ii. 187.
96.
The good and evil with man's nature blent, The weal and woe that heaven's decrees have sent,-- Impute them not to motions of the skies,-- Skies than thyself ten times more impotent.
96. C. L. N. A. I. J. Fate is merely the decree of Allah. For the distinction between _kaza_ and _kadar_, see Pocock, «_Specimen Historiae Arabum_,» p. 207.
97.
Against death's arrows what are buckles worth? What all the pomps and riches of the earth? When I survey the world, I see no good But goodness, all beside is nothing worth.
97. N. Possibly written on the margin by some pious reader as an answer to No. 86.
98.
Weak souls, who from the world cannot refrain, Hold life-long fellowship with rule and pain; Hearts free from worldly cares have store of bliss, All others seeds of bitter woe contain.
98. L. N. _Tajrid_, see _Gulshan i Raz_, p. 8, n.
99.
He, in whose bosom wisdom's seed is sown, To waste a single day was never known; Either he strives to work great Allah's will, Or else exalts the cup, and works his own.
99. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. _Tarabe_, query, _takhme?_ giving a line in metre 23.
100.
When Allah mixed my clay, He knew full well My future acts, and could each one foretell; Without His will no act of mine was wrought; Is it then just to punish me in hell?
100. C. L. N. A. I. Of the Moslem theory of predestination, Khayyam might truly say, «Ten thousand mortals, drowned in endless woe, for doing what they were compelled to _do_.»
101.
Ye, who cease not to drink on common days, Do not on Friday quit your drinking ways; Adopt my creed, and count all days the same, Be worshippers of God, and not of days.
101. L. N. In line 3 scan _yakist_.
102.
If grace be grace, and Allah gracious be, Adam from Paradise why banished He? Grace to poor sinners shown is grace indeed; In grace hard earned by works no grace I see.
102. N. The _tashdid_ of _rabb_ is dropped. Bl., Prosody, p. iv.
103.
Dame Fortune's smiles are full of guile, beware! Her scimitar is sharp to smite, take care! If e'er she drop a sweetmeat in thy mouth, 'Tis poisonous,--to swallow it forbear!
103. C. L. A. B. I. _Hush_ contracted from _hosh_.
104.
Where'er you see a rose or tulip bed, Know that a mighty monarch's blood was shed And where the violet rears her purple tuft, Be sure a black-moled girl hath laid her head.
104. B. L. The MSS. have a variation of this, beginning _Har khisht ki_.
105.
Wine is a melting ruby, cup its mine; Cup is the body, and the soul is wine; These crystal goblets smile with ruddy wine Like tears, that blood of wounded hearts enshrine.
105. L. B.
106.
Drink wine! 'tis life etern, and travail's meed, Fruitage of youth, and balm of age's need: 'Tis the glad time of roses, wine and friends; Rejoice thy spirit--that is life indeed.
106. L. B. There being no _izafat_ after _yaran_, _sar i mast_ must agree with _hangam_.
107.
Drink wine! long must you sleep within the tomb, Without a friend, or wife to cheer your gloom; Hear what I say, and tell it not again, «Never again can withered tulips bloom.»
107. C. A. B. I. J. This recalls the chorus in the «Oedipus Coloneus.»
108.
They preach how sweet those Houri brides will be, But I say wine is sweeter--taste and see! Hold fast this cash, and let that credit go, And shun the din of empty drums like me.
108. C. L. A. B. I. J. _Sin_, «nuptials.» Like me, _i.e._, as I do.
109.
Once and again my soul did me implore, To teach her, if I might, the heavenly lore; I bade her learn the _Alif_ well by heart. Who knows that letter well need learn no more.
109. B. _Alif Kafat_, the One (God) is enough. Probably a quotation. Hafiz (Ode 416) uses the same expression: «He who knows the One knows all.»
110.
I came not hither of my own free will, And go against my wish, a puppet still; Cupbearer! gird thy loins, and fetch some wine; To purge the world's despite, my goblet fill.
110. C. L. A. B. I. J. _'Azme, ya i tankir_, or _tans ifi?_
111.
How long must I make bricks upon the sea? Beshrew this vain task of idolatry; Call not Khayyam a denizen of hell; One while in heaven, and one in hell is he.
111. C. L. A. B. I. J. _Andar-ba_, Bl., Prosody 12.
112.
Sweet is the breath of Spring to rose's face, And thy sweet face adds charm to this fair place; To-day is sweet, but yesterday is sad, And sad all mention of its parted grace.
112. C. L. A. B. I. J. _Khush_ is pronounced _khash_ or _khush._ Bl., Prosody, p. 12. _Guyi_ is generally written with _hamza_ and _ya_, but in some MSS. _fatha_ is substituted for the _hamza_ [?].
113.
To-night pour wine, and sing a dulcet air, And I upon thy lips will hang, O fair; Yea, pour some wine as rosy as thy cheeks, My mind is troubled like thy ruffled hair.
113. B. _Roziyyi_.
114.
Pen, tablet, heaven and hell I looked to see Above the skies, from all eternity; At last the master sage instructed me, «Pen, tablet, heaven and hell are all in thee.»
114. Allah writes his decrees with the «pen» on the «tablet.» Koran, lxviii. l. See _Gulshan i Raz_, 1, n.
115.
The fruit of certitude _he_ cannot pluck, The path that leads thereto who never struck, Nor ever shook the bough with strenuous hand; To-day is lost; hope for to-morrow's luck.
115. L. B. _Lit._ «Consider to-morrow your first day.»
116.
Now spring-tide showers its foison on the land, And lively hearts wend forth, a joyous band, For 'Isa's breath wakes the dead earth to life, And trees gleam white with flowers, like Musa's hand.
116. B. Alluding to the life-giving breath of Jesus, and the white hand of Moses. (Exodus, IV. 6.) _Bakhushi dastrase (ya i tankir_), «_an_ aid to joy,» _i.e._, Spring.
117.
Alas for that cold heart, which never glows With love, nor e'er that charming madness knows; The days misspent with no redeeming love;-- No days are wasted half as much as those!
117. Bl. L. B.
118.
The zephyrs waft thy fragrance, and it takes My heart, and me, his master, he forsakes; Careless of me he pants and leaps to thee, And thee his pattern and ensample makes!
118. Bl. C. L. A. I. J. Also ascribed to Abu Sa'id bin Abul Khair. C. writes _buyi_ with two _yas_, and _hamza_ on the first. The second _ya_ seems to be _ya i batni_ or _tausifi_, though that is usual only before adjectives. Bl., Prosody, p. 11.
119.
Drink wine! and then as Mahmud thou wilt reign, And hear a music passing David's strain: Think not of past or future, seize to-day, Then all thy life will not be lived in vain.
119. Bl. C. L. A. I. J.
120.
Ten Powers, and nine spheres, eight heavens made He, And planets seven, of six sides, as we see, Five senses, and four elements, three souls, Two worlds, but only one, O man, like thee.
120. L. A summary of the Muhammadan doctrine of «Emanations.» See _Gulshan i Raz_, p. 21. Three souls, _i.e._, vegetive, animal and human, as in Aristotle's _De Anima_. _Akhtaram_ (?), also in Cambridge MS.
121.
Jewry hath seen a thousand prophets die, Sinai a thousand Musas mount the sky; How many Cæsars Rome's proud forum crossed! 'Neath Kasra's dome how many monarchs lie!
121. L. J. Time is long and life short.
122.
Gold breeds not wit, but to wit lacking bread Earth's flowery carpet seems a dungeon bed; 'Tis his full purse that makes the rose to smile, While empty-handed violets hang the head.
122. L. Alluding to the golden stamens of the rose. I supply _tihi_ from the Cambridge MS.
123.
Heaven's wheel has made full many a heart to moan, And many a budding rose to earth has thrown; Plume thee not on thy youth and lusty strength, Full many a bud is blasted ere 'tis blown.
123. L.
124.
What lord is fit to rule but «Truth»? Not one. What beings disobey His rule? Not one. All things that are, are such as He decrees; And naught is there beside beneath the sun.
124. C. L. A. I. «The Truth» is a Sufi name for the Deity.
125.
That azure coloured vault and golden tray Have turned, and will turn yet for many a day; And just so we, impelled by turns of fate,-- Come here but for a while, then pass away.
125. Bl. L. _Guzasht_, «It is all over with us.» Bl. «Golden tray,» the Sun.
126.
The Master did himself these vessels frame, Why should he cast them out to scorn and shame? If he has made them well, why should he break them? Yea, though he marred them, _they_ are not to blame.
126. C. L. A. I. J. In line 4 _suwar_ is an Arabic plural used as a singular. Bl., Prosody, p. 5.
127.
Kindness to friends and foes 'tis well to show, No kindly heart can prove unkind, I trow: Harshness will alienate a bosom friend, And kindness reconcile a deadly foe.
127. L. In line 2 scan _neykiyash_.
128.
To lovers true, what matters dark or fair? Or if the loved one silk or sackcloth wear, Or lie on down or dust, or rise to heaven? Yea, though she sink to hell, he'll seek her there.
128. L. Probably Mystical.
129.
Full many a hill and vale I journeyed o'er; Yea, journeyed through the world's wide quarters four, But never heard of pilgrim who returned; When once they go, they go to come no more.
129. C. L. N. (in part) A. I. J.
130.
Wine-houses flourish through this thirst of mine, Loads of remorse weigh down this back of mine; Yet, if I sinned not, what would mercy do? Mercy depends upon these sins of mine.
130. C. Bl. L. A. I. J. Bl. quotes similar sentiments from Nizami and Hafiz. Mercy is God's highest attribute, and sin is required to call it forth.
131.
Thy being is the being of Another, Thy passion is the passion of Another. Cover thy head, and think, and thou wilt see, Thy hand is but the cover of Another.
131. Bl. Meaning God is the _Fa'il i hakiki_, the only real Agent.
132.
From learning to the cup your bridle turn; All lore of world to come, save Kausar, spurn; Your turban pawn for wine, or keep a shred To bind your brow, and all the remnant burn.
132. N. _Kausar_, the river of wine in Paradise.
133.
See! from the world what profit have I gained? What fruitage of my life in hand retained? What use is Jamshid's goblet, once 'tis crushed? What pleasure's torch, when once its light has waned?
133. L. N. _Tarf bar bastan_,«to reap advantage.»
134.
When life is spent, what's Balkh or Nishapore? What sweet or bitter, when the cup runs o'er? Come drink! full many a moon will wax and wane In times to come, when we are here no more.
134. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
135.
O fair! whose cheeks checkmate red eglantine, And draw the game with those fair maids of Chin, You played one glance against the king of Babil And took his pawns, and knights, and rooks, and queen.
135. L. B.
136.
Life's caravan is hastening on its way; Brood not on troubles of the coming day, But fill the wine-cup, ere sweet night be gone, And snatch a pleasant moment, while you may.
136. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. The «_rinds_» loved a dark night. Bl.
137.
He, who the world's foundations erst did lay, Doth bruise full many a bosom day by day, And many a ruby lip and musky tress Doth coffin in the earth, and shroud with clay.
137. C. L. N. A. I. J. So Job, «Is it good unto thee that thou shouldest oppress, that thou shouldest despise the work of thine hands?»
138.
Be not beguiled by world's insidious wiles; O foolish ones, ye know her tricks and guiles; Your precious life-time cast not to the winds; Haste to seek wine, and court a sweetheart's smile.
138. N.
139.
Comrades! I pray you, physic me with wine, Make this wan amber face like rubies shine, And, if I die, use wine to wash my corpse, And frame my coffin out of planks of vine!
139. C. L. N. A. B. I. _Kahraba_, «amber,» literally «attractor of straw.»
140.
When Allah yoked the courses of the sun, And launched the Pleiades their race to run, My lot was fixed in fate's high chancery; Then why blame me for wrong that fate has done?
140. C. L. N. A. I. J. Also ascribed to Afzul Kashi.
141.
Ah! seasoned wine oft falls to rawest fools, And clumsiest workmen own the finest tools; And Turki maids, fit to delight men's hearts, Lavish their smiles on beardless boys in school!
141. N. So Hafiz, «If that Turki maid of Shiraz,» etc.
142.
Whilom, ere youth's conceit had waned, methought Answers to all life's problems I had wrought; But now, grown old and wise, too late I see My life is spent, and all my lore is naught.
142. N. C. A. and I. give another version of this.
143.
They who of prayer-mats make such great display Are fools to bear hypocrisy's hard sway; Strange! under cover of this saintly show They live like heathen, and their faith betray.
143. C. L. N A. I. In line 2, note the arrangement of the prepositions. There is a proverb, «The Devil lives in Mecca and Medinah.»
144.
To him who would his sins extenuate, Let pious men this verse reiterate, «To call God's prescience the cause of sin In wisdom's purview is but folly's prate.»
144. L. N. _Sahl_, of «no account.»
145.
He brought me hither, and I felt surprise, From life I gather but a dark surmise, I go against my will;--thus, why I come, Why live, why go, are all dark mysteries.
145. C. L. N. A.
146.
When I recall my grievous sins to mind, Fire burns my breast, and tears my vision blind; Yet, when a slave repents, is it not meet His lord should pardon, and again be kind?
146. L. N. In line 2, _az sar guzarad_ means «drops from the eyes,» and in line 4, «remits the penalty.» This change of meaning is called _Tajnis_.
147.
They at whose lore the whole world stands amazed, Whose high thoughts, like Borak, to heaven are raised, Strive to know Thee in vain, and like heaven's wheel Their heads are turning, and their brains are dazed.
147. C. L. N. A. Borak, or Burak, the steed on which Muhammad made his famous nocturnal ascent to heaven.
148.
Allah hath promised wine in Paradise, Why then should wine on earth be deemed a vice? An Arab in his cups cut Hamzah's girths,-- For that sole cause was drink declared a vice.
148. L. N. Nicolas says this refers to an event which occurred to Hamzah, a relation of Muhammad.
149.
Now of old joys naught but the name is left, Of all old friends but wine we are bereft, And that wine _new_, but still cleave to the cup, For save the cup, what single joy is left?
149. L. N. B.
150.
The world will last long after Khayyam's fame Has passed away, yea, and his very name; Aforetime we were not, and none did heed. When we are dead and gone, 'twill be the same.
150. N.
151.
The sages who have compassed sea and land, Their secret to search out, and understand,-- My mind misgives me if they ever solve The scheme on which this universe is planned.
151. C. L. N. A. I.
152.
Ah! wealth takes wings, and leaves our hands all bare, And death's rough hands delight our hearts to tear; And from the nether world none e'er escapes, To bring us news of the poor pilgrims there.
152. C. L. N. A. I.
153.
'Tis passing strange, those titled noblemen Find their own lives a burden sore, but when They meet with poorer men, not slaves to sense, They scarcely deign to reckon them as men.
153. C. L. N. A. I.
154.
The wheel on high, still busied with despite, Will ne'er unloose a wretch from his sad plight; But when it lights upon a smitten heart, Straightway essays another blow to smite.
154. C. L. N. A. I. Vullers, Section 207.
155.
Now is the volume of my youth outworn, And all my spring-tide blossoms rent and torn. Ah, bird of youth! I marked not when you came, Nor when you fled, and left me thus forlorn.
155. C. L. N. A. I.
156.
These fools, by dint of ignorance most crass, Think they in wisdom all mankind surpass; And glibly do they damn as infidel, Whoever is not, like themselves, an ass.
156. N. So Job, «Ye are the people, and wisdom shall die with you.» Probably addressed to the 'Ulama.
157.
Still be the wine-house thronged with its glad choir, And Pharisaic skirts burnt up with fire, Still be those tattered frocks and azure robes Trod under feet of revellers in the mire.
157. C. L. N. A. J. Hafiz (Ode V.) speaks of the blue robes of certain Dervishes as a mark of hypocrisy.
158.
Why toil ye to ensure illusions vain, And good or evil of the world attain? Ye rise like Zamzam, or the fount of life, And, like them, in earth's bosom sink again.
158. C. L. N. A. I.
159.
Till the Friend pours his wine to glad my heart, No kisses to my face will heaven impart They say, «Repent in time»; but how repent, Ere Allah's grace hath softened my hard heart?
159. C. L. N. A. I. Meaning, man is powerless to mend his ways without Divine grace.
160.
When I am dead, take me and grind me small, So that I be a caution unto all, And knead me into clay with wine, and then Use me to stop the wine-jar's mouth withal.
160. C. L. N. A. I. J.
161.
What though the sky with its blue canopy Doth close us in so that we cannot see, In the etern Cupbearer's wine methinks, There float a myriad bubbles like to me.
161. N.
162.
Take heart! Long in the weary tomb you'll lie, While stars keep countless watches in the sky, And see your ashes moulded into bricks, To build another's house and turrets high.
162. L. N. C. A. and I. split this into two. In line 1 note _izafat_ dropped after silent _he_.
163.
Glad hearts, who seek not notoriety, Nor flaunt in gold and silken bravery, Haunt not this ruined earth like gloomy owls, But wing their way, Simurgh-like, to the sky.
163. C. L. N. A. I.
164.
Wine's power is known to wine-bibbers alone, To narrow heads and hearts 'tis never shown; I blame not them who never felt its force, For, till they feel it, how can it be known.
164. C. N. A. I. J.
165.
Needs must the tavern-hunter bathe in wine, For none can make a tarnished name to shine; Go! bring me wine, for none can now restore Its pristine sheen to this soiled veil of mine.
165. C. L. N. A. B. I. In line 3 scan _masturiyi_ dissolving the letter of prolongation _ya_.
166.
I wasted life in hope, yet gathered not In all my life of happiness one jot; Now my fear is that life may not endure. Till I have taken vengeance on my lot!
166. C. L. N. A. I. _Rozgare_, «some time.» In line 3 note the _madd_ of _An_ dropped. Bl., Prosody, p. 11.
167.
Be very wary in the soul's domain, And on the world's affairs your lips refrain; Be, as it were, sans tongue, sans ear, sans eye, While tongue, and ears, and eyes you still retain.
167. L. N.
168.
Let him rejoice who has a loaf of bread, A little nest wherein to lay his head, Is slave to none, and no man slaves for him,-- In truth his lot is wondrous well bested.
168. C. L. N. A.
169.
What adds my service to Thy majesty? Or how can sin of mine dishonour Thee? O pardon, then, and punish not, I know Thou'rt slow to wrath, and prone to clemency.
169. C. L. N. A. I.
170.
Hands, such as mine, that handle bowls of wine, 'Twere shame to book and pulpit to confine; Zealot! thou'rt dry, and I am moist with drink, Yea, far too moist to catch that fire of thine!
170. L. N. I follow Nicolas in taking _mani_ as a possessive pronoun, «mine,» though such a word is not mentioned in any grammar or dictionary. It occurs again in No. 478.
171.
Whoso aspires to gain a rose-cheeked fair, Sharp pricks from fortune's thorns must learn to bear. See! till this comb was cleft by cruel cuts, It never dared to touch my lady's hair.
171. C. L. N. A. I. Lyttleton expresses a similar sentiment.
172.
For ever may my hands on wine be stayed. And my heart pant for some fair Houri maid! They say, «May Allah aid thee to repent!» Repent I could not, e'en with Allah's aid!
172. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. Note the conjunctive pronoun separated from its noun.
173.
Soon shall I go, by time and fate deplored, Of all my precious pearls not one is bored; Alas! there die with me a thousand truths To which these fools fit audience ne'er accord.
173. C. L. N. A. I.
174.
To-day how sweetly breathes the temperate air, The rains have newly laved the parched parterre; And Bulbuls cry in notes of ecstasy, «Thou too, O pallid rose, our wine must share!»
174. L. N. B.
175.
Ere you succumb to shocks of mortal pain, The rosy grape-juice from your wine-cup drain. You are not gold, that, hidden in the earth, Your friends should care to dig you up again!
175. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. Note the old form of the imperative.
176.
My coming brought no profit to the sky, Nor does my going swell its majesty; Coming and going put me to a stand, Ear never heard their wherefore nor their why.
176. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. Voltaire has some similar lines in his poem on the Lisbon earthquake.
177.
The heavenly Sage, whose wit exceeds compare, Counteth each vein, and numbereth every hair; Men you may cheat by hypocritic arts, But how cheat Him to whom all hearts are bare?
177. C. L. N. A. I. J.
178.
Ah! wine lends wings to many a weary wight, And beauty spots to ladies' faces bright; All Ramazan I have not drunk a drop, Thrice welcome, then, O Bairam's blessed night!
178. Bairam, the feast on the 1st Shawwal, after Ramazan. In line 2 _Khirad_ seems wrong, the rhyme would suggest _Kharo_?
179.
All night in deep bewilderment I fret, With tear-drops big as pearls my breast is wet; I cannot fill my cranium with wine, How can it hold wine, when 'tis thus upset?
179. C. L. N. A. I. Note _tashdid_ of _durr_ dropped.
180.
To prayer and fasting when my heart inclined, All my desire I surely hoped to find; Alas! my purity is stained with wine, My prayers are wasted like a breath of wind.
180. C. L. N. A. I. In line 2 scan _Kulliyam_. In line 4 note _izafat_ dropped after silent _he_.
181.
I worship rose-red cheeks with heart and soul, I suffer not my hand to quit the bowl, I make each part of me his function do, Or e'er my parts be swallowed in the Whole.
181. C. L. N. A. I. Line 4 alludes to reabsorption in the Divine essence. Note _juzwiyam_, and _tashdid_ of _kull_ dropped.
182.
This worldly love of yours is counterfeit, And, like a half-spent blaze, lacks light and heat; True love is his, who for days, months and years, Rests not, nor sleeps, nor craves for drink or meat.
182. L. N. B. Line 3 is in metre 17.
183.
Why spend life in vainglorious essay All Being and Not-being to survey? Since Death is ever pressing at your heels, 'Tis best to drink or dream your life away.
183. C. L. N. A. I. J. In line 2 scan _payi_. Being, _i.e._, the Deity, the only real existence, and Not-being, the nonentity in which His attributes are reflected.
184.
Some hanker after that vain phantasy Of Houris, feigned in Paradise to be, But, when the veil is lifted, they will find How far they are from Thee, how far from Thee!
184. C. L. N. A. I.
185.
In Paradise, they tell us, Houris dwell, And fountains run with wine and oxymel: If these be lawful in the world to come, Surely 'tis right to love them here as well.
185. C. L. N. A. I. J.
186.
A draught of wine would make a mountain dance, Base is the churl who looks at wine askance; Wine is a soul our bodies to inspire, A truce to this vain talk of temperance!
186. C. L. N. A. I.
187.
Oft doth my soul her prisoned state bemoan, Her earth-born co-mate she would fain disown, And quit, did not the stirrup of the law Upbear her foot from dashing on the stone.
187. N. Meaning, «I would make away with myself, were it not for the Almighty's canon 'gainst self-slaughter.»
188.
The moon of Ramazan is risen, see! Alas, our wine must henceforth banished be; Well! on Sha'ban's last day I'll drink enough To keep me drunk till Bairam's jubilee.
188. C. L. N. A. I. Note _wa_ omitted in line 2. Also ascribed to Jalal 'Asad Bardi.
189.
From life we draw now wine, now dregs to drink, Now flaunt in silk, and now in tatters shrink; Such changes wisdom holds of slight account To those who stand on death's appalling brink!
189. N.
190.
What sage the eternal tangle e'er unravelled, Or one short step beyond his nature travelled? From pupils to the masters turn your eyes, And see, each mother's son alike is gravelled.
190. C. L. N. A. B. I. In line 1 note _ra_ put after the genitive, following its noun. _'Ijz._ ... «impotence is in the hand of each.» «Beyond his nature,» _i.e._, beyond the limit of his own thought.
191.
Crave not of worldly sweets to take your fill, Nor wait on turns of fortune, good or ill; Be of light heart, as are the skies above, They roll a round or two, and then lie still.
191. C. L. N. A. B. I. The skies have their allotted term like you, yet do not distress themselves.
192.
What eye can pierce the veil of God's decrees, Or read the riddle of earth's destinies? Pondered have I for years threescore and ten, But still am baffled by these mysteries.
192. C. L. N. A. I. So Job, «The thunder of his power who can understand?»
193.
They say, when the last trump shall sound its knell, Our Friend will sternly judge, and doom to hell. Can aught but good from perfect goodness come? Compose your trembling hearts, 'twill all be well.
193. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Juzi_, (?) _juz az_.
194.
Drink wine to root up metaphysic weeds, And tangle of the two-and-seventy creeds; Do not forswear that wondrous alchemy, 'Twill turn to gold, and cure a thousand needs.
194. C. L. N. A. B. I. Muhammad said, «My people shall be divided into seventy-three sects, all of which, save one, shall have their portion in the fire.» Pocock, Specimen 210.
195.
Though drink is wrong, take care with whom you drink, And who you are that drink, and what you drink; And drink at will, for, these three points observed, Who but the very wise can ever drink?
195. C. L. N. A. B. I. A hit at the casuistry on the subject of wine.
196.
To drain a gallon beaker I design, Yea, two great beakers, brimmed with richest wine; Old faith and reason thrice will I divorce, Then take to wife the daughter of the vine.
196. C. N. A. I. A triple divorce is irrevocable. Koran, ii. 230.
197.
True I drink wine, like every man of sense, For I know Allah will not take offence; Before time was, He knew that I should drink, And who am I to thwart His prescience?
197. C. L. N. A. B. I.
198.
Rich men, who take to drink, the world defy With shameless riot, and as beggars die; Place in my ruby pipe some emerald hemp, 'Twill do as well to blind care's serpent eye.
198. C. L. N. A. I. Scan _af'ayi_. The emerald is supposed to have the virtue of blinding serpents.
199.
These fools have never burnt the midnight oil In deep research, nor do they ever toil To step beyond themselves, but dress them fine, And plot of credit others to despoil.
199. C. L. N, A. I. _Shame chand_ Vullers (p. 253) takes this _ya_ to be _ya i tankir_; and Lumsden (ii. 269) says the presence of this letter, between a noun and its attribute, dispenses with the _izafat_ (?). But why not add the _izafat_, and scan _Shamiyi_?
200.
When false dawn streaks the east with cold, grey line, Pour in your cups the pure blood of the vine; The truth, they say, tastes bitter in the mouth, This is a token that the «Truth» is wine.
200. C. L. N. A. I. J. False dawn, the faint light before sunrise.
201.
Now is the time earth decks her greenest bowers, And trees, like Musa's hand, grow white with flowers! As 'twere at 'Isa's breath the plants revive, While clouds brim o'er, like tearful eyes, with showers.
201. C. L. N. A. B. I. Musa and 'Isa are often written without the _alif i maksur_. Bl., Prosody 3.
202.
O burden not thyself with drudgery, Lord of white silver and red gold to be; But feast with friends, ere this warm breath of thine Be chilled in death, and earthworms feast on thee.
202. N.
203.
The showers of grape-juice, which cupbearers pour, Quench fires of grief in many a sad heart's core Praise be to Allah, who hath sent this balm To heal sore hearts, and spirits' health restore!
203. C. L. N. A. B. I. In line 1 some MSS. reads _bakhak_. _Didayi garm_, «eyes of anguish.» Scan _garm atishi_ (_Alif i wasl_).
204.
Can alien Pharisees Thy kindness tell, Like us, Thy intimates, who nigh Thee dwell? Thou say'st, «All sinners will I burn with fire.» Say that to strangers, we know Thee too well.
204. N.
205.
O comrades dear, when hither ye repair In times to come, communion sweet to share, While the cupbearer pours your old Magh wine, Call poor Khayyam to mind, and breathe a prayer.
205. L. N. B. _Mayi_. The second _ya_ is the _ya i batni_.
206.
For me heaven's sphere no music ever made, Nor yet with soothing voice my fears allayed; If e'er I found brief respite from my woes, Back to woe's thrall I was at once betrayed.
206. C. L. N. A. I.
207.
Sooner with half a loaf contented be, And water from a broken crock, like me, Than lord it over one poor fellow-man, Or to another bow the vassal knee.
207. C. L. N. A. I. In line 2 note _izafat_ dropped after silent _he_, _Kam az Khude_, «one less than yourself.» Vullers, p. 254.
208.
While Moon and Venus in the sky shall dwell, None shall see aught red grape-juice to excel: O foolish publicans, what can you buy One half so precious as the goods you sell?
208. C. L. N. A. B. I.
209.
They who by genius, and by power of brain, The rank of man's enlighteners attain, Not even they emerge from this dark night, But tell their dreams, and fall asleep again.
209. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Fisanaye, ya i tankir_.
210.
At dawn, when dews bedeck the tulip's face, And violets their heavy heads abase, I love to see the roses' folded buds, With petals closed against the wind's disgrace.
210. L. B.
211.
Like as the skies rain down sweet jessamine, And sprinkle all the meads with eglantine, Right so, from out this jug of violet hue, I pour in lily cups this rosy wine.
211. B. Here read _mayi_, with one _ya_, and _kasra_, because the metre requires a word of only two consonants, and two short vowels, of the _wazn mafa_.
212.
Ah! thou hast snared this head, though white as snow, Which oft has vowed the wine-cup to forego; And wrecked the mansion long resolve did build, And rent the vesture penitence did sew!
212. B. _Nabid_ is often written _nabiz_, probably a survival from the time when _dals_ were dotted. Bl., Prosody 17.
213.
I am not one whom Death doth much dismay, Life's terrors all Death's terrors far outweigh; This life, that Heaven hath lent me for a while, I will pay back, when it is time to pay.
213. C. L. A. B. I. B. reads _nim_ for _bim_ in line 2.
214.
The stars, who dwell on heaven's exalted stage, Baffle the wise diviners of our age; Take heed, hold fast the rope of mother wit. These augurs all distrust their own presage.
214. L. B. A hit at the astrologers.
215.
The people who the heavenly world adorn, Who come each night, and go away each morn, Now on Heaven's skirt, and now in earth's deep pouch, While Allah lives, shall aye anew be born!
215. L. B. Earth's pouch, _i.e._, «beneath the earth.» _Rezaye._ L. reads _didaye_. Both readings are probably wrong.
216.
Slaves of vain wisdom and philosophy, Who toil at Being and Nonentity, Parching your brains till they are like dry grapes, Be wise in time, and drink grape-juice, like me!
216. B. The vanity of learning.
217.
Sense, seeking happiness, bids us pursue All present joys, and present griefs eschew; She says, we are not as the meadow grass, Which, when they mow it down, springs up anew.
217. C. L. A. B. I. J. _Goyid_, from _goyidan_. _Ya i maksur_ followed by another _ya_ is in Persian words always _hamzated_ (Lumsden, i. 29; Vullers, p. 24); and this _hamza i maksur_ is pronounced _ye_. Ibrahim, Grammar, p. 24.
218.
Now Ramazan is past, Shawwal comes back, And feast and song and joy no more we lack; The wine-skin carriers throng the streets and cry, «Here comes the porter with his precious pack.»
218. B. I incline to read _pusht bast_ for _pusht pusht_, which I do not understand.
219.
My comrades all are gone; Death, deadly foe, Has caught them one by one, and trampled low; They shared life's feast, and drank its wine with me, But lost their heads, and dropped a while ago.
219. C. L. A. I. Quoted by _Badauni_, ii. 159.
220.
Those hypocrites, all know so well, who lurk In streets to beg their bread, and will not work, Claim to be saints, like Shibli and Junaid, No Shiblis are they, though well known in Karkh!
220. C. L. A. I. L. Reads _bakahna namad_, but the line will not scan with that reading. Line 4 is in metre 9. A saint called _Ma'ruf i Karkhi_, «the famed one of Karkh,» is mentioned in the _Nafahat ul Uns_. Karkh was a suburb of Bagdad.
221.
When the great Founder moulded me of old, He mixed much baser metal with my gold; Better or fairer I can never be Than I first issued from his heavenly mould.
221. C. L. A. I.
222.
The joyous souls who quaff potations deep, And saints who in the mosques sad vigils keep, Are lost at sea alike, and find no shore, ONE only wakes, all others are asleep.
222. L. B. One, _i.e._, the Deity.
223.
Not-being's water served to mix my clay, And on my heart grief's fire doth ever prey, And blown am I like wind about the world, And last my crumbling earth is swept away.
223. L. This introduction of the four elements in one quatrain is called _Mutazadd_. Gladwin, p. 60.
224.
Small gains to learning on this earth accrue, They pluck life's fruitage, learning who eschew; Take pattern by the fools who learning shun, And then perchance shall fortune smile on you.
224. C. L. A. I. _Bu_ contracted from _buzad_
225.
When the fair soul this mansion doth vacate, Each element assumes its primal state, And all the silken furniture of life Is then dismantled by the blows of fate.
225. C. L. A. I. _Abresham tab'_, like _Hatim tab'_.
226.
These people string their beads of learned lumber, And tell of Allah stories without number; Yet never solve the riddle of the skies, But wag the chin, and get them back to slumber.
226. Possibly a hit at the _Mutakallamin_, or scholastic theologians.
227.
These folk are asses, laden with conceit, And glittering drums, that empty sounds repeat, And humble slaves are they of name and fame, Acquire a name, and, lo! they kiss thy feet.
227. C. L. A. I. _Ba afsos_ is an epithet, like _ba khabar_, and hence _kharan_, the noun qualified by it, takes the _izafat_. Lumsden, ii. 259. _Pur mash'ala_, «full of glitter»; compare _pur mae_ in No. 179.
228.
On the dread day of final scrutiny Thou wilt be rated by thy quality; Get wisdom and fair qualities to-day, For, as thou art, requited wilt thou be.
228. C. L. A. I.
229.
Many fine heads, like bowls, the Brazier made, And thus his own similitude portrayed; He set one upside down above our heads, Which keeps us all continually afraid.
229. C. L. A. I. «One upside down,» _i.e._, the sky. _Kansa_ is also spelled _kasa_.
230.
My true condition I may thus explain In two short verses which the whole contain: «From love to Thee I now lay down my life, In hope Thy love will raise me up again.»
230. C. L. A. I. Scan _wakiayi_. Here _hamza_ stands for _ya i tankir_.
231.
The heart, like tapers, takes at beauty's eyes A flame, and lives by that whereby it dies; And beauty is a flame where hearts, like moths, Offer themselves a burning sacrifice.
231. L. Metre Ramal, No. 50. In line 3 the first syllable is short. See Bl., Prosody, p. 43. In this form the metre is like Horace's «_Miserarum est_,» etc.
232.
To please the righteous life itself I sell, And, though they tread me down, never rebel; Men say, «Inform us what and where is hell?» Ill company will make this earth a hell.
232. C. L. A. I. Also ascribed to Hafiz.
233.
The sun doth smite the roofs with Orient ray And, Khosrau like, his wine-red sheen display; Arise, and drink! the herald of the dawn Uplifts his voice, and cries, «Oh, drink to-day!»
233. C. L. A. I. J.
234.
Comrades! when e'er you meet together here, Recall your friend to mind, and drop a tear; And when the circling wine-cups reach his seat, Pray turn one upside down his dust to cheer.
234. B. A variation of No. 205.
235.
That grace and favour at the first, what meant it? That lavishing of joy and peace, what meant it? But now thy purpose is to grieve my heart; What did I do to cause this change? What meant it?
235. B. So Job, «He multiplieth my wounds without cause.»
236.
These hypocrites who build on saintly show, Treating the body as the spirit's foe, If they will shut their mouths with lime, like jars, My jar of grape-juice I will then forego.
236. L. B. B. reads _arra_, of which I can make no sense. _Bar fark niham_, «I will put aside»; _bar fark_ (line 4), «on their mouths.»
237.
Many have come, and run their eager race, Striving for pleasures, luxuries, or place, And quaffed their wine, and now all silent lie, Enfolded in their parent earth's embrace.
237. C. L. A. I.
238.
Then, when the good reap fruits of labours past, My hapless lot with drunkards will be cast; If good, may I be numbered with the first, If bad, find grace and mercy with the last.
238. C. L. A. I.
239.
Of happy turns of fortune take your fill, Seek pleasure's couch, or wine-cup, as you will; Allah regards not if you sin, or saint it, So take your pleasure, be it good or ill.
239. C. L. N. A. I. J. Alluding to the _Hadis_, «These are in heaven, and Allah regards not their sins, and those in hell, and Allah regards not their good works.» See _Gulshan i' Raz_, p. 55.
240.
Heaven multiplies our sorrows day by day, And grants no joys it does not take away; If those unborn could know the ills we bear, What think you, would they rather come or stay?
240. C. L. N. A. I. J. This recalls Byron's «Stanzas for Music.»
241.
Why ponder thus the future to foresee, And jade thy brain to vain perplexity? Cast off thy care, leave Allah's plans to him, He formed them all without consulting thee.
241. C. L. N. A. I. J.
242.
The tenants of the tombs to dust decay, Nescient of self, and all beside are they; Their sundered atoms float about the world, Like mirage clouds, until the judgment day.
242. C. L. N. A. I. J. In line 4 some MSS. read _sharab_ and change the order of the lines.
243.
O soul! lay up all earthly goods in store, Thy mead with pleasure's flowerets spangle o'er; And know 'tis all as dew, that decks the flowers For one short night, and then is seen no more!
243. C. L. N. A. I. J. There are several variations of this.
244.
Heed not the Sunna, nor the law divine; If to the poor his portion you assign, And never injure one, nor yet abuse, I guarantee you heaven, and now some wine!
244. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. See Koran, ii. 172: «There is no piety in turning your faces to the east or west, but he is pious who believeth in God ... and disburseth his wealth to the needy,» etc.
245.
Vexed by this wheel of things, that pets the base, My sorrow-laden life drags on apace; Like rosebud, from the storm I wrap me close, And blood-spots on my heart, like tulip, trace.
245. N.
246.
Youth is the time to pay court to the vine, To quaff the cup, with revellers to recline; A flood of water once laid waste the earth, Hence learn to lay you waste with floods of wine.
246. C. N. A. I. J.
247.
The world is baffled in its search for Thee, Wealth cannot find Thee, no, nor poverty; Thou'rt very near us, but our ears are deaf, Our eyes are blinded that we may not see!
247. N. So Hafiz, Ode 355 (Brockhaus): «How can our eyes behold Thee as Thou art?»
248.
Take care you never hold a drinking-bout With an ill-tempered, ill-conditioned lout; He'll make a vile disturbance all night long, And vile apologies next day, no doubt.
248. C. L. N. A. I. J. In line 3 scan _badmastiyo_ and in line 4 _Khwahiyash_.
249.
The starry aspects are not all benign; Why toil then after vain desires, and pine To lade thyself with load of fortune's boons, Only to drop it with this life of thine?
249. C. L. N. A. I. J.
250.
O comrades! here is filtered wine, come drink! Pledge all your charming sweethearts as you drink; 'Tis the grape's blood, and this is what it says, «To you I dedicate my life-blood! drink!»
250. C. L. N. A. I. J.
251.
Are you depressed? Then take of _bhang_ one grain, Of rosy grape-juice take one pint or twain; Sufis, you say, must not take this or that, Then go and eat the pebbles off the plain!
251. N. In line 1 and 2 scan _yakjawaki_ and _manaki_, _ak_ being the diminutive, and _ya_ the _ya i tankir_, displacing the _izafat_: Lumsden, ii, 269. _Bhang_, a narcotic, made from hemp.
252.
I saw a busy potter by the way Kneading with might and main a lump of clay; And, lo! the clay cried, «Use me gently, pray; I was a man myself but yesterday!»
252. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. _Hal_, ecstasy.
253.
Oh! wine is richer that the realm of Jam, More fragrant than the food of Miriam; Sweeter are sighs that drunkards heave at morn Than strains of Bu Sa'id and Bin Adham.
253. C. L. N. A. I. J. Abu Sa'id Abu'l Khair and Ibrahim Bin Adham are both mentioned in the _Nafahat ul Uns_. «Miriam's food.» See Koran, xix. 24. Note _izafat_ dropped after silent _he_.
254.
Deep in the rondure of the heavenly blue, There is a cup, concealed from mortals' view, Which all must drink in turn; Oh, sigh not then, But drink it boldly, when it comes to you!
254. C. L. A. I. J. _Jawr_, a «bumper.»
255.
Though you should live to four, or forty score, Go hence you must, as all have gone before; Then, be you king, or beggar of the streets, They'll rate you all the same, no less, no more.
255. L.
256.
If you seek Him, abandon child and wife, Arise, and sever all these ties to life; All these are bonds to check you on your course. Arise, and cut these bonds, as with a knife.
256. L. B. So _Gulshan i Raz_, l. 944.
257.
O heart! this world is but a fleeting show, Why should its empty griefs distress thee so? Bow down, and bear thy fate, the eternal pen Will not unwrite its roll for thee, I trow!
257. L. N. B. The «pen» is that with which Allah writes his decrees.
258.
Who e'er returned of all that went before, To tell of that long road they travel o'er? Leave naught undone of what you have to do, For when you go, you will return no more.
258. C. N. L. A. I. J. _Amadaye, ya i tankir_.
259.
Dark wheel! how many lovers thou hast slain, Like Mahmud and Ayaz, O inhumane! Come, let us drink, thou grantest not two lives, When one is spent, we find it not again.
259. L. N. Mahmud, the celebrated king of Ghazni, and Ayaz his favourite. Scan _wayaz_ (_alif i wasl_).
260.
Illustrious Prophet! whom all kings obey, When is our darkness lightened by wine's ray? On Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, both night and day!
260. C. L. N. A. I. J. The _jim_ in _panjshamba_ is dropped in scanning. See Bl., Prosody, p. 10. In line 4 note silent _he_ in _shauba_ scanned long as well as short.
261.
O turn away those roguish eyes of thine! Be still! seek not my peace to undermine! Thou say'st, «Look not.» I might as well essay To slant my goblet, and not spill my wine.
261. N. Line 4, a proverb denoting an impossibility.
262.
In taverns better far commune with Thee, Than pray in mosques, and fail Thy face to see! O first and last of all Thy creatures Thou, 'Tis Thine to burn, and Thine to cherish me!
262. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. This is clearly an address to the Deity.
263.
To wise and worthy men your life devote, But from the worthless keep your walk remote; Dare to take poison from a sage's hand, But from a fool refuse an antidote.
263. L. N. Line 2 is in metre 17.
264.
I flew here, as a bird from the wild, in aim Up to a higher nest my course to frame, But, finding here no guide who knows the way, Fly out by the same door where through I came.
264. C. L. N. A. I. J.
265.
He binds us in resistless Nature's chain, And yet bids us our natures to restrain; Between these counter rules we stand perplexed, «Hold the jar slant, but all the wine retain.»
265. L. N. In line 3 scan _nahyash_. So Lord Brooke in «Mustapha»; Ward's English Poets, i. 370.
266.
They go away, and none is seen returning, To teach that other world's recondite learning; 'Twill not be shown for dull mechanic prayers, For prayer is naught without true heartfelt yearning.
266. C. L. N. A. I. The _formal_ prayers of Moslems are rather ascriptions of praise, and repetitions of texts, than petitions.
267.
Go to! Cast dust on those deaf skies, who spurn Thy orisons and bootless prayers, and learn To quaff the cup, and hover round the fair; Of all who go, did ever one return?
267. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. An answer to the last.
268.
Though Khayyam strings no pearls of righteous deeds, Nor sweeps from off his soul sin's noisome weeds, Yet will he not despair of heavenly grace, Seeing that ONE as two he ne'er misreads.
268. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. _Tauhid_, or Unitarianism, is the central doctrine of Islam. So Hafiz, Ode 465.
269.
Again to tavern haunts do we repair, And say «Adieu» to the five hours of prayer; Where'er we see a long-necked flask of wine, We elongate our necks that wine to share.
269. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. _Takbir_, or _tekbir_ the formula «_Allah akbar_,» in saying which the mind should be abstracted from worldly thoughts; hence «renunciation.» See Nicolas.
270.
We are but chessmen, destined, it is plain, That great chess-player, Heaven, to entertain; It moves us on life's chess-board to and fro, And then in death's dark box shuts up again.
270. L. N. B. _Hakikati_, see Bl., Prosody 3.
271.
You ask what is this life so frail, so vain, 'Tis long to tell, yet will I make it plain; 'Tis but a breath blown from the vasty deeps, And then blown back to those same deeps again!
271. C. L. N. A. I. J. Some MSS. read _naksh_. Deeps, _i.e._, the ocean of Not-being.
272.
To-day to heights of rapture have I soared, Yea, and with drunken Maghs pure wine adored; I am become beside myself, and rest In that pure temple, «Am not I your Lord?»
272. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Alasto birabbikum_, Allah's words to Adam's sons: Koran vii. 171. So in Hafiz, Ode 43 (Brockhaus).
273.
My queen (long may she live to vex her slave!) To-day a token of affection gave, Darting a kind glance from her eyes, she passed, And said, «Do good and cast it on the wave!»
273. L. N. Meaning, hope not for a return to your love. _Nekuyey_, «a good act,» _ya_ conjunctive and _ya i tankir_, Vullers, p. 250.
274.
I put my lips to the cup, for I did yearn The hidden cause of length of days to learn; He leaned his lip to mine, and whispered low, «Drink! for, once gone, you never will return.»
274. C. L. A. B. I. J. Some MSS. give line 4 differently.
275.
We lay in the cloak of Naught, asleep and still, Thou said'st, «Awake! taste the world's good and ill»; Here we are puzzled by Thy strange command, From slanted jars no single drop to spill.
275. L. Naught, _i.e._, Not-being. See note to No. 183.
276.
O Thou! who know'st the secret thoughts of all, In time of sorest need who aidest all, Grant me repentance, and accept my plea, O Thou who dost accept the pleas of all!
276. C. L. N. A. I. J. Note _tashdid_ on _rabb_ dropped.
277.
I saw a bird perched on the walls of Tus, Before him lay the skull of Kai Kawus, And thus he made his moan, «Alas, poor king! Thy drums are hushed, thy 'larums have rung truce.»
277. C. L. N. A. Tus was near Nishapur.
278.
Ask not the chances of the time to be, And for the past, 'tis vanished, as you see; This ready-money breath set down as gain, Future and past concern not you or me.
278. C. L. N. A. I. J. In line 1 note _izafat_ dropped after silent _he_. Compare Horace's Ode to Leuconoe.
279.
What launched that golden orb his course to run, What wrecks his firm foundations, when 'tis done, No man of science ever weighed with scales, Nor made assay with touchstone, no, not one!
279. L. The vanity of science.
[Illustration: _SUFI MYSTICS GATHERED FOR MEDITATION_ _From an old painting by a Pushtu artist_]
280.
I pray thee to my counsel lend thine ear, Cast off this false hypocrisy's veneer; This life a moment is, the next all time, Sell not eternity for earthly gear!
280. C. L. N. A. B. I. Note _ra_ separated from its noun, as before. Vullers, p. 173.
281.
Ofttimes I plead my foolishness to Thee, My heart contracted with perplexity; I gird me with the Magian zone, and why? For shame so poor a Musulman to be.
281. C. L. N. A. I. J. In line 1 scan _nadaniyi_, dissolving the long _ya_.
282.
Khayyam! rejoice that wine you still can pour, And still the charms of tulip cheeks adore; You'll soon not be, rejoice then that you are, Think how 'twould be in case you were no more!
282. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
283.
Once, in a potter's shop, a company Of cups in converse did I chance to see, And lo! one lifted up his voice, and cried, «Who made, who sells, who buys this crockery?»
283. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. Men's speculations.
284.
Last night, as I reeled from the tavern door, I saw a sage, who a great wine-jug bore; I said, «O Shaikh, have you no shame?» Said he, «Allah hath boundless mercy in his store.»
284. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Sar mast_, a compound, hence _izafat_ omitted. _Saboyey, hamza_ (for conjunctive _ya_) followed by _ya i tankir_. See Lumsden, ii. 269.
285.
Life's fount is wine, Khizir its guardian, I, like Elias, find it where I can, 'Tis sustenance for heart and spirit too, Allah himself calls wine «a boon to man.»
285. C. L. N. A. I. J. Koran, ii. 216. Elias discovered the water of life.
286.
Though wine is banned, yet drink, for ever drink! By day and night, with strains of music drink! Where'er thou lightest on a cup of wine, Spill just one drop, and take the rest and drink!
286. C. L. N. A. I. J. To spill a drop is a sign of liberality.--Nicolas.
287.
Although the creeds number some seventy-three, I hold with none but that of loving Thee; What matter faith, unfaith, obedience, sin? Thou'rt all we need, the rest is vanity.
287. N. See note on Quatrain 194. Forms of faith are indifferent. See _Gulshan i Raz_, p. 83.
288.
Tell one by one my scanty virtues o'er; As for my sins, forgive them by the score; Let not my faults kindle Thy wrath to flame; By blest Muhammad's tomb, forgive once more!
288. L. N. B. _Rasul-ullah_: the construction being Arabic, _izafat_ is needed. Lumsden, ii. p. 251. Also ascribed to Zahir ud-din Faryabi.
289.
Grieve not at coming ill, you can't defeat it, And what far-sighted person goes to meet it? Cheer up! bear not about a world of grief, Your fate is fixed, and grieving will not cheat it.
289. L. Line 2 is a question.
290.
There is a chalice made with wit profound, With tokens of the Maker's favour crowned; Yet the world's Potter takes his masterpiece, And dashes it to pieces on the ground!
290. C. L. A. I. J. So Job, «Is it good unto Thee that Thou shouldest despise the labour of Thine hands?»
291.
In truth wine is a spirit thin as air, A limpid soul in the cup's earthen ware; No dull, dense person shall be friend of mine Save wine-cups, which are dense and also rare.
291. L. N. B. _Layik . man izafat_ omitted because of the intervening words. Lumsden, ii. 250.
292.
O wheel of heaven! no ties of bread you feel, No ties of salt, you flay me like an eel! A woman's wheel spins clothes for man and wife, It does more good than you, O heavenly wheel!
292. C. L. N. A. I. J.
293.
Did no fair rose my paradise adorn, I would make shift to deck it with a thorn; And if I lacked my prayer-mats, beads, and Shaikh, 'Those Christian bells and stoles I would not scorn.
293. C. L. N. A. I. (under _Te_). Line 2 is omitted in the translation. So Pope, «For forms and creeds let graceless zealots fight.»
294.
«If heaven deny me peace and fame,» I said, «Let it be open war and shame instead; The man who scorns bright wine had best beware, I'll arm me with a stone, and break his head!»
294. C. L. N. A. I. J.
295.
See! the dawn breaks, and rends night's canopy: Arise! and drain a morning draught with me! Away with gloom! full many a dawn will break Looking for us, and we not here to see!
295. C. L. N A. I. J. _Bisyar_, «frequently.»
296.
O you who tremble not at fires of hell, Nor wash in water of remorse's well, When winds of death shall quench your vital torch, Beware lest earth your guilty dust expel.
296. L. Possibly written by some pious reader as an answer to Khayyam's scoffs. See note on Quatrain 223.
297.
This world a hollow pageant you should deem; All wise men know things are not what they seem; Be of good cheer, and drink, and so shake off This vain illusion of a baseless dream.
297. L. N. All earthly existence is «_Maya_»
298.
With maids stately as cypresses, and fair As roses newly plucked, your wine-cups share, Or e'er Death's blasts shall rend your robe of flesh Like yonder rose leaves, lying scattered there!
298. C. L. N. I. J. The Lucknow commentator says _daman i gul_ means the maid's cheek.
299.
Cast off dull care, O melancholy brother! Woo the sweet daughter of the grape, no other; The daughter is forbidden, it is true, But she is nicer than her lawful mother!
299. N. «Daughter of the grape,» _i.e._, wine, a translation of an Arabic phrase.
300.
My love shone forth, and I was overcome, My heart was speaking, but my tongue was dumb; Beside the water-brooks I died of thirst. Was ever known so strange a martyrdom?
300. N. _Dil rubaye_, «that well-known charmer.» Lumsden, ii. 142. _Pur sukhan_. See note on No. 227.
301.
Give me my cup in hand, and sing a glee In concert with the bulbul's symphony; Wine would not gurgle as it leaves the flask, If drinking mute were right for thee and me!
301. C. L. N. A. I. J.
302.
The «Truth» will not be shown to lofty thought, Nor yet with lavished gold may it be bought; But, if you yield your life for fifty years, From words to «states» you may perchance be brought.
302. L. Line 3, literally, «Unless you dig up your soul, and eat blood for fifty years.» «States» of ecstatic union with the «Truth,» or Deity of the Mystics.
303.
I solved all problems, down from Saturn's wreath Unto this lowly sphere of earth beneath, And leapt out free from bonds of fraud and lies, Yea, every knot was loosed, save that of death!
303. C. L. A. I. J.
304.
Peace! the eternal «Has been» and «To be» Pass man's experience, and man's theory; In joyful seasons naught can vie with wine, To all these riddles wine supplies the key!
304. C. L. A. B. I. J.
305.
Allah, our Lord, is merciful, though just; Sinner! despair not, but His mercy trust! For though to-day you perish in your sins, To-morrow He'll absolve your crumbling dust.
305. C. L. N. A. I. J. A very Voltairean quatrain.
306.
Your course annoys me, O ye wheeling skies! Unloose me from your chain of tyrannies! If none but fools your favours may enjoy, Then favour me,--I am not very wise!
306. C. L. N. A. I. J.
307.
O City Mufti, you go more astray Than I do, though to wine I do give way; I drink the blood of grapes, you that of men: Which of us is the more bloodthirsty, pray?
307. C. L. N. A. I. J. Alluding to the selling of justice by Muftis.
308.
'Tis well to drink, and leave anxiety For what is past, and what is yet to be; Our prisoned spirits, lent us for a day, A while from season's bondage shall go free!
308. C. L. N. A. I. J. _'Ariyati rawan_, «this borrowed soul.»
309.
When Khayyam quittance at Death's hand receives, And sheds his outworn life, as trees their leaves, Full gladly will he sift this world away, Ere dustmen sift his ashes in their sieves.
309. C. L. N. A. I. J.
310.
This wheel of heaven, which makes us all afraid, I liken to a lamp's revolving shade, The sun the candlestick, the earth the shade, And men the trembling forms thereon portrayed.
310. C. L. N. A. B. I. _Fanus i khiyal_, a magic or Chinese lantern.
311.
Who was it that did mix my clay? Not I. Who spun my web of silk and wool? Not I. Who wrote upon my forehead all my good, And all my evil deeds? In truth not I.
311. C. L. N. A. I. In line 2 rhyme shows the word to be _rishtai_, not _rushtai_.
312.
O let us not forecast to-morrow's fears, But count to-day as gain, my brave compeers! To-morrow we shall quit this inn, and march With comrades who have marched seven thousand years.
312. C. L. N. A. I. J. Badauni (ii. 337) says the creation of Adam was 7000 years before his time. Compare Hafiz, _Ruba'i_ 10.
313.
Ne'er for one moment leave your cup unused! Wine keeps heart, faith, and reason too, amused; Had Iblis swallowed but a single drop, To worship Adam he had ne'er refused!
313. C. L. (in part) N. A. I. J. See Koran, ii. 31.
314.
Come, dance! while we applaud thee, and adore Thy sweet Narcissus eyes, and grape-juice pour; A score of cups is no such great affair, But 'tis enchanting when we reach three score!
314. N. Narcissus eyes, _i.e._, languid.
315.
I close the door of hope in my own face, Nor sue for favours from good men, or base; I have but ONE to lend a helping hand, He knows, as well as I, my sorry case.
315. C. L. N. A. I. J. A «_Haliya_» quatrain, lamenting his own condition.
316.
Ah! by these heavens, that ever circling run, And by my own base lusts I am undone, Without the wit to abandon worldly hopes, And wanting sense the world's allures to shun!
316. C. L. N. A. I. J.
317.
On earth's green carpet many sleepers lie, And hid beneath it others I descry, And others, not yet come, or passed away, People the desert of Nonentity!
317. C. L. N. A. I. J. The sleepers on the earth are those sunk in the sleep of superstition and ignorance.
318.
Sure of Thy grace, for sins why need I fear? How can the pilgrim faint whilst Thou art near? On the last day Thy grace will wash me white, And make my «black record» to disappear.
318. C. L. N. A. I. J. Lumsden, ii, 72. See Koran, xiii. 47.
319.
Think not I dread from out the world to hie, And see my disembodied spirit fly; I tremble not at death, for death is true, 'Tis my ill life that makes me fear to die!
319. C. L. N. A. I. J. «Death is true,» _i.e._ a certainty. So Sir Philip Sidney (after M. Aurelius), «Since Nature's works be good, and death doth serve as Nature's work, why should we fear to die?»
320.
Let us shake off dull reason's incubus, Our tale of days or years cease to discuss, And take our jugs, and plenish them with wine, Or e'er grim potters make their jugs of us!
320. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
321.
How much more wilt thou chide, O raw divine, For that I drink, and am a libertine? Thou hast thy weary beads, and saintly show, Leave me my cheerful sweetheart, and my wine!
321. C. L. N. A. I. J.
322.
Against my lusts I ever war, in vain, I think on my ill deeds with shame and pain; I trust Thou wilt assoil me of my sins, But even so, my shame must still remain.
322. C. L. N. A. B. I.
323.
In these twin compasses, O Love, you see One body with two heads, like you and me, Which wander round one centre, circlewise. But at the last in one same point agree.
323. C. L. N. A. I. Mr. Fitzgerald quotes a similar figure used by the poet Donne, for which see Ward's «English Poets,» i. 562. The two heads are the points of the compasses.
324.
We shall not stay here long, but while we do, 'Tis folly wine and sweethearts to eschew; Why ask if earth etern or transient be? Since you must go, it matters not to you.
324. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
325.
In reverent sort to mosque I wend my way, But, by great Allah, it is not to pray; No! but to steal a prayer-mat! When 'tis worn, I go again, another to purvey.
325. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. To «steal a prayer-mat» is to pray to be seen of men.--Nicolas. A satire on some hypocrite, perhaps himself.
326.
No more let fate's annoys our peace consume, But let us rather rosy wine consume, The world our murderer is, and wine its blood, Shall we not then that murderer's blood consume?
326. L. N. See Koran, ii. 187.
327.
For Thee I vow to cast repute away, And, if I shrink, the penalty to pay; Though life might satisfy Thy cruelty, 'Twere naught, I'll bear it till the judgment-day!
327. C. L. N. A. B. I.
328.
In Being's rondure do we stray belated, Our pride of manhood humbled and abated; Would we were gone! long since have we been wearied With this world's griefs, and with its pleasures sated.
328. L. N.
329.
The world is false, so I'll be false as well, And with bright wine, and gladness ever dwell! They say, «May Allah grant thee penitence!» He grants it not, and, did he, I'd rebel!
329. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. A pun in the original.
330.
When Death shall tread me down upon the plain, And pluck my feathers, and my life-blood drain, Then mould me to a cup, and fill with wine, Haply its scent will make me breathe again.
330. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
331.
So far as this world's dealings I have traced, I find its favours shamefully misplaced; Allah be praised! I see myself debarred From all its boons, and wrongfully disgraced.
331. C. L. N. A. I. _Alam hama_, etc., «states entirely gratuitous.» Write _baran_ without a _madd_. Bl., Prosody, p. 11. Compare Shakespeare, Sonnet 66.
332.
'Tis dawn! my heart with wine I will recruit, And dash to bits the glass of good repute; My long-extending hopes I will renounce, And grasp long tresses, and the charming lute.
332. L. N. B.
333.
Though I had sinned the sins of all mankind, I know Thou would'st to mercy be inclined; Thou sayest, «I will help in time of need» One needier than I where wilt Thou find?
333. C. L. N. A. I. J. The _waw_ in _'afw_ is a consonant, and therefore takes _kasra_ for the _izafat_, without the intervention of conjunctive _ya_.
334.
Am I a wine-bibber? What if I am? Gueber or infidel? Suppose I am? Each sect miscalls me, but I heed them not, I am my own, and, what I am, I am.
334. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Zan i khud_ for _azan i khud_, «my own property.»
335.
All my life long from drink I have not ceased, And drink I will to-night on Kadr's feast; And throw my arms about the wine-jar's neck, And kiss its lip, and clasp it to my breast!
335. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Kadr_ the night of power. Koran, xcvi. 1.
336.
I know what is, and what is not, I know The lore of things above, and things below; But all this lore will cheerfully renounce, If one a higher grade than drink can show.
336. L. N. B. Line 1, Being and Not-being, «Grade,» _i.e._, of learning.
337.
Though I drink wine, I am no libertine, Nor am I grasping, save of cups of wine; I scruple to adore myself, like you; For this cause to wine-worship I incline.
337. C. L. N. A. I. J. A hit at the vain and covetous Mollas. Also ascribed to Anwari.
338.
To confidants like you I dare to say What mankind really are--moulded of clay, Affliction's clay, and kneaded in distress, They taste the world awhile, then pass away.
338. C. L. N. A. I. J. Note the archaic form.
339.
We make the wine-jar's lip our place of prayer, And drink in lessons of true manhood there, And pass our lives in taverns, if perchance The time mis-spent in mosques we may repair.
339. L. N. This quatrain is probably Mystical.
340.
Man is the whole creation's summary, The precious apple of great wisdom's eye; The circle of existence is a ring, Whereof the signet is humanity.
340. C. L. N. A. I. Man is the microcosm. See _Gulshan i Raz_, p. 15. «The captain jewel of the carcanet.»
341.
With fancies, as with wine, our heads we turn, Aspire to heaven, and earth's low trammels spurn; But, when we drop this fleshly clog, 'tis seen From dust we came, and back to dust return.
341. L. N.
342.
If so it be that I did break the fast, Think not I meant it; no! I thought 'twas past;-- That day more weary than a sleepless night,-- And blesséd breakfast-time had come at last!
342. L. N. _Roza khwardan_, «to avoid fasting.» In line 2, for _bekhabar_ read _bakhabar_.
343.
I never drank of joy's sweet cordial, But grief's fell hand infused a drop of gall; Nor dipped my bread in pleasure's piquant salt, But briny sorrow made me smart withal!
343. C. L. N. A. I. Line 4, literally, «eat a roast of my own liver.»
344.
At dawn to tavern haunts I wend my way, And with distraught Kalendars pass the day; O Thou! who know'st things secret, and things known, Grant me Thy grace, that I may learn to pray!
344. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Khafiyyat_ means «manifest,» as well as «concealed.» Lucknow commentator.
345.
The world's annoys I rate not at one grain, So I eat once a day I don't complain; And, since earth's kitchen yields no solid food, I pester no man with petitions vain.
345. C. L. N. A. I. J. In line 3 the _Alif_ in _az_ is not treated as an _Alif i wasl_. Bl., Pros. 10.
346.
Never from worldly toils have I been free, Never for one short moment glad to be! I served a long apprenticeship to fate, But yet of fortune gained no mastery.
346. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Ek dam zadan_, «For one moment.»
347.
One hand with Koran, one with wine-cup dight, I half incline to wrong, and half to right; The azure-marbled sky looks down on me A sorry Moslem, yet not heathen quite.
347. C. L. N. A. I. J. Khayyam here describes himself as _akrates_ rather than _akolastos_, «_Video meliora proboque_,» etc.
348.
Khayyam's respects to Mustafa convey, And with due reverence ask him to say, Why it has pleased him to forbid pure wine, When he allows his people acid whey?
348 and 349. L. These two quatrains are also found in Whalley's Morababad edition. _Mustafa_, _i.e._, Muhammad. So Avicenna. See Renan, Averroes, 171.
349.
Tell Khayyam, for a master of the schools, He strangely misinterprets my plain rules: Where have I said that wine is wrong for all? 'Tis lawful for the wise, but not for fools.
350.
My critics call me a philosopher, But Allah knows full well they greatly err; I know not even what I am, much less Why on this earth I am a sojourner!
350. C. L. A. I. J. Filsafat meant the Greek philosophy as cultivated by Persian rationalists, in opposition to theology. Renan, Averroes, p. 91.
351.
The more I die to self, I live the more, The more abase myself, the higher soar; And, strange! the more I drink of Being's wine, More sane I grow and sober than before.
351. L. Clearly Mystical.
352.
Quoth rose, «I am the Yusuf flower, I swear, For in my mouth rich golden gems I bear»: I said, «Show me another proof.» Quoth she, «Behold this blood-stained vesture that I wear!»
352. B. L. Yusuf is the type of manly beauty. The yellow stamens are compared to his teeth. So Jami, in _Yusuf wa Zulaikha_.
353.
I studied with the masters long ago, And long ago did master all they know; Here now the end and issue of it all, From earth I came, and like the wind I go!
353. L. B. Mr. Fitzgerald compares the dying exclamation of Nizam ul-Mulk, «I am going in the hands of the wind!» _Mantik ut Tair_, 1. 4620.
354.
Death finds us soiled, though we were pure at birth, With grief we go, although we came with mirth; Watered with tears, and burned with fires of woe, And, casting life to winds, we rest in earth!
354. C. L. A. I. J.
355.
To find great Jamshid's world-reflecting bowl I compassed sea and land, and viewed the whole; But, when I asked the wary sage, I learned That bowl was my own body, and my soul!
355. L. King Jamshid's cup, which reflected the whole world, is the Holy Grail of Persian poetry. Meaning «man is the microcosm.» See note on No. 340. In line 2 scan _naghnudem_.
356.
Me, cruel Queen! you love to captivate, And from a knight to a poor pawn translate, You marshal all your force to tire me out, You take my rooks with yours, and then checkmate!
356. C. L. A. I. J. The pun on _rukh_, «cheek,» and _rukh_, «castle,» is untranslatable.
357.
If Allah wills me not to will aright, How can I frame my will to will aright? Each single act I will must needs be wrong, Since none but He has power to will aright.
357. C. L. A. I. J.
358.
«For once, while roses are in bloom,» I said, «I'll break the law, and please myself instead, With blooming youths, and maidens' tulip cheeks The plain shall blossom like a tulip-bed.»
358. L. N. _Rozi_, _ya i batni_, or _tankir_ (?).
359.
Think not I am existent of myself, Or walk this blood-stained pathway of myself; This being is not I, it is of Him. Pray what, and where, and whence is this «myself»?
359. C. L. A. I. J. In line 3 I omit _wa_ after _Lu bud_. Meaning, Man's real existence is not of himself, but of the «Truth,» the universal _Noumenon_.
360.
Endure this world without my wine I cannot! Drag on life's load without my cups I cannot! I am the slave of that sweet moment, when They say, «Take one more goblet,» and I cannot!
360. C. L. N. A. I. J.
361.
You, who both day and night the world pursue, And thoughts of that dread day of doom eschew, Bethink you of your latter end; be sure As time has treated others, so 'twill you!
361. C. L. N. A. I.
362.
O man, who art creation's summary, Getting and spending too much trouble thee! Arise, and quaff the Etern Cupbearer's wine, And so from troubles of both worlds be free!
362. C. L. N. A. I. J. So Wordsworth, «The world is too much with us,» etc. The Sufis rejected _talab ud dunya_, «worldliness,» and _talab nl ukharat_, «other-worldliness,» for _talab nl maula_, «disinterested godliness.» So Madame Guyon taught «Holy Indifference.»
363.
In this eternally revolving zone, Two lucky species of men are known; One knows all good and ill that are on earth, One neither earth's affairs, nor yet his own.
363. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Taman_, «entirely.» The two classes seem to be practical men and mystics.
364.
Make light to me the world's oppressive weight, And hide my failings from the people's hate, And grant me peace to-day, and on the morrow Deal with me as Thy mercy may dictate!
364. C. L. N A. I. J. In line 4 scan _anchaz_.
365.
Souls that are well informed of this world's state, Its weal and woe with equal mind await: For, be it weal we meet, or be it woe, The weal doth pass, and woe too hath its date.
365. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. 'Twill all be one a hundred years hence.
366.
Lament not fortune's want of constancy, But up! and seize her favours ere they flee; If fortune always cleaved to other men, How could a turn of luck have come to thee?
366. C. L. N. A. I. J. This was a saying of Kisra Parviz to his Sultana. Bicknell's Hafiz, p. 73.
367.
Chief of old friends! hearken to what I say, Let not heaven's treacherous wheel your heart dismay; But rest contented in your humble nook, And watch the games that wheel is wont to play.
367. C. L. N. A. I. J.
368.
Hear now Khayyam's advice, and bear in mind, Consort with revellers, though they be maligned, Cast down the gates of abstinence and prayer, Yea, drink, and even rob, but, oh! be kind!
368. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. A rather violent extension of the doctrine, Mercy is better than sacrifice.
369.
This world a body is, and God its soul, And angels are its senses, who control Its limbs--the creatures, elements, and spheres; The ONE is the sole basis of the whole.
369. L. N. So Pope, «All are but parts,» etc.
370.
Last night that idol who enchants my heart, With true desire to elevate my heart, Gave me his cup to drink; when I refused, He said, «Oh, drink to gratify my heart!»
370. N.
371.
Would'st thou have fortune bow her neck to thee, Make it thy care to feed thy soul with glee; And hold a creed like mine, which is to drain The cup of wine, not that of misery.
371. So the Ecclesiast, «There is nothing better for a man than that he should eat, and drink, and make his soul enjoy good in his labour.»
372.
Though you survey O my enlightened friend, This world of vanity from end to end, You will discover there no other good Than wine and rosy cheeks, you may depend!
372. N. Note _izafat_ dropped after _sahib_. Bl., Prosody, p. 14.
373.
Last night upon the river bank we lay, I with my wine-cup, and a maiden gay, So bright it shone, like pearl within its shell, The watchman cried, «Behold the break of day!»
373. N. _Nigare_. Here _ya_ may be _ya i tankir_, the _izafat_ being dispensed with (Lumsden, ii. 269) [?], or perhaps _ya i tausifi_ before the «sifat» _marvzum_.
374.
Have you no shame for all the sins you do, Sins of omission and commission too? Suppose you gain the world, you can but leave it, You cannot carry it away with you!
374. C. L. N. A. I. J.
375.
In a lone waste I saw a debauchee, He had no home, no faith, no heresy, No God, no truth, no law, no certitude; Where in this world is man so bold as he?
375. L. N. A _beshara'_ or antinomian Sufi.
376.
Some look for truth in creeds, and forms, and rules; Some grope for doubts or dogmas in the schools; But from behind the veil a voice proclaims, «Your road lies neither here nor there, O fools.»
376. C. L. N. A. I. Truth, hidden from theologians and philosophers, is revealed to mystics. See _Gulshan i Raz_, p. 11.
377.
In heaven is seen the bull we name Parwin, Beneath the earth another lurks unseen; And thus to wisdom's eyes mankind appear A drove of asses, two great bulls between!
377. L. N. The bulls are the constellation Taurus, and that which supports the earth.
378.
The people say, «Why not drink somewhat less? What reasons have you for such great excess?» First, my Love's face, second, my morning draught; Can there be clearer reasons, now confess?
378. C. L. N. A. I. J.
379.
Had I the power great Allah to advise, I'd bid him sweep away this earth and skies, And build a better, where, unclogged and free, The clear soul might achieve her high emprise.
379. C. L. N. A. I. J. This recalls the celebrated speech of Alphonso X., king of Castile.
380.
This silly sorrow-laden heart of mine Is ever pining for that Love of mine; When the Cupbearer poured the wine of love, With my heart's blood he filled this cup of mine!
380. C. L. N. A. I. Meaning, «the wine of life, or existence, poured by the Deity into all beings at creation.» See _Gulshan i Raz_, p. 80.
381.
To drain the cup, to hover round the fair, Can hypocritic arts with these compare? If all who love and drink are going wrong, There's many a wight of heaven may well despair!
381. L. N. B.
382.
'Tis wrong with gloomy thoughts your mirth to drown,-- To let grief's millstone weigh your spirits down; Since none can tell what is to be, 'tis best With wine and love your heart's desires to crown.
382. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
383.
'Tis well in reputation to abide, 'Tis shameful against heaven to rail and chide; Still, head had better ache with over drink, Than be puffed up with Pharisaic pride!
383. C. L. N. A. I. J. Compare «Tartufe,» i. 6.
384.
O Lord! pity this prisoned heart, I pray, Pity this bosom stricken with dismay! Pardon these hands that ever grasp the cup, These feet that to the tavern ever stray!
384. N.
385.
O Lord! from self-conceit deliver me, Sever from self, and occupy with Thee! This self is captive to earth's good and ill, Make me beside myself, and set me free!
385. C. L. N. A. I. J. A Mystic's prayer.
386.
Behold the tricks this wheeling dome doth play, And earth laid bare of old friends torn away! O live this present moment, which is thine, Seek not a morrow, mourn not yesterday!
386. L. B. An odd expression.
387.
Since all man's business in this world of woe Is sorrow's pangs to feel, and grief to know, Happy are they that never come at all, And they that, having come, the soonest go!
387. C. L. A. B. I. J. Compare the chorus in the «Oedipus Coloneus.»
388.
By reason's dictates it is right to live, But of ourselves we know not how to live, So Fortune, like a master, rod in hand, Raps our pates well to teach us how to live!
388. L. Fortune's buffets.
389.
Nor you nor I can read the etern decree, To that enigma we can find no key; They talk of you and me _behind_ the veil, But, if that veil be lifted, where are _we_?
389. C. L. A. I. J. Meaning, We are part of the «veil» of phenomena, which hides the Divine Noumenon. If that be swept away what becomes of us?
390.
O Love, for ever doth heaven's wheel design To take away thy precious life, and mine; Sit we upon this turf, 'twill not be long Ere turf shall grow upon my dust, and thine!
390. L. N. B.
391.
When life has fled, and we rest in the tomb, They'll place a pair of bricks to mark our tomb; And, a while after, mould our dust to bricks, To furnish forth some other person's tomb!
391. L. N. A. I.
392.
Yon palace, towering to the welkin blue, Where kings did bow them down, and homage do, I saw a ringdove on its arches perched, And thus she made complaint, «Coo, Coo, Coo, Coo!»
392. C. L. N. A. I. J. Mr. Binning found this quatrain inscribed on the ruins of Persepolis--Fitzgerald. Coo (_Ku_) means «Where are they?»
393.
We come and go, but for the gain, where is it? And spin life's woof, but for the warp, where is it? And many a righteous man has burned to dust In heaven's blue rondure, but their smoke, where is it?
393. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. So Ecclesiastes, «There is no remembrance of the wise, more than of the fool.» «Smoke,» _i.e._, trace.
394.
Life's well-spring lurks within that lip of thine! Let not the cup's lip touch that lip of thine! Beshrew me, if I fail to drink his blood, For who is he, to touch that lip of thine?
394. C. L. N. A. I. J. To a sweetheart.
395.
Such as I am, Thy power created me, Thy care hath kept me for a century! Through all these years I make experiment, If my sins or Thy mercy greater be.
395. C. L. N. A. I. J. God's long-suffering.
396.
«Take up thy cup and goblet, Love,» I said, «Haunt purling river bank, and grassy glade; Full many a moon-like form has heaven's weel Oft into cup, oft into goblet, made!»
396. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
397.
We buy new wine and old, our cups to fill, And sell for two grains this world's good and ill; Know you where you will go to after death? Set wine before me, and go where you will!
397. L. N. and J. give lines 1 and 2 differently.
398.
Was e'er man born who never went astray? Did ever mortal pass a sinless day? If I do ill, do not requite with ill! Evil for evil how can'st Thou repay?
398. L. N. Line 3 and 4 are paraphrased somewhat freely.
399.
Bring forth that ruby gem of Badakhshan, That heart's delight, that balm of Turkistan; They say 'tis wrong for Musulmen to drink, But ah! where can we find a Musulman?
399. C. L. N. A. I. J.
400.
My body's life and strength proceed from Thee! My soul within and spirit are of Thee! My being is of Thee, and Thou art mine, And I am Thine, since I am lost in Thee!
400. L. «In him we live and move, and have our being.»
401.
Man, like a ball, hither and thither goes, As fate's resistless bat directs the blows; But He, who gives thee up to this rude sport, He knows what drives thee, yea, He knows, He knows!
401. C. L. A. I. J. Line 4 is in metre 22, consisting of ten syllables, all long.
402.
O Thou who givest sight to emmet's eyes, And strength to puny limbs of feeble flies, To Thee we will ascribe Almighty power, And not base, unbecoming qualities.
402. L. An echo of the Asharian's discussions on the Divine attributes.
403.
Let not base avarice enslave thy mind, Nor vain ambition in its trammels bind; Be sharp as fire, as running water swift, Not, like earth's dust, the sport of every wind!
403. L. C. A. I. J.
404.
'Tis best all other blessings to forego For wine, that charming Turki maids bestow; Kalendars' raptures pass all things that are, From moon on high down into fish below!
404. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. For _mah_ L. reads _hahk_ probably a Sufi gloss. Kalendars, bibulous Sufis. Fish, that whereon the earth was said to rest.
405.
Friend! trouble not yourself about your lot, Let futile care and sorrow be forgot; Since this life's vesture crumbles into dust, What matters stain of word or deed, or blot?
405. L. N.
406.
O thou who hast done ill, and ill alone, And thinkest to find mercy at the throne, Hope not for mercy! for good left undone Cannot be done, nor evil done undone!
406. N. A. I. This quatrain is by Abu Sa'id Abu'l Khair; and is an answer to No. 420, which is attributed to Avicenna.
407.
Count not to live beyond your sixtieth year, To walk in jovial courses persevere; And ere your skull be turned into a cup, Let wine-cups ever to your hand adhere!
407. L. N. B.
408.
These heavens resemble an inverted cup, Whereto the wise with awe keep gazing up; So stoops the bottle o'er his love, the cup, Feigning to kiss, and gives her blood to sup!
408. C. L. N. A. B. I. Blood, an emblem of hate.
409.
I sweep the tavern threshold with my hair, For both world's good and ill I take no care; Should the two worlds roll to my house, like balls, When drunk, for one small coin I'd sell the pair!
409. L. N. B.
410.
The drop wept for his severance from the sea, But the sea smiled, for «I am all,» said he, «The Truth is all, nothing exists beside, That one point circling apes plurality.»
410. N. This is in Ramal metre, No. 50. Compare _Gulshan i Raz_, line 710.
411.
Shall I still sigh for what I have not got, Or try with cheerfulness to bear my lot? Fill up my cup! I know not if the breath I now am drawing is my last, or not!
411. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. Some MSS. place this quatrain under _Radif ya_.
412.
Yield not to grief, though fortune prove unkind, Nor call sad thoughts of parted friends to mind; Devote thy heart to sugary lips, and wine, Cast not thy precious life unto the wind!
412. L. N. B.
413.
Of mosque and prayer and fast preach not to me, Rather go drink, were it on charity! Yea, drink, Khayyam, your dust will soon be made A jug, or pitcher, or a cup, may be!
413. N. «Imperial Cæsar, dead, and turned to clay Might stop a hole to keep the wind away.»
414.
Bulbuls, doting on roses, oft complain How forward breezes rend their veils in twain; Sit we beneath this rose, which many a time Has sunk to earth, and sprung from earth again.
414. L. N. B. So Moschus on the mallows.
415.
Suppose the world goes well with you, what then? When life's last page is read and turned, what then? Suppose you live a hundred years of bliss, Yea, and a hundred years besides, what then?
415. C. L. N A. I. J. See Vullers, p. 100.
416.
How is it that of all the leafy tribe, Cypress and lily men as «free» describe? This has a dozen tongues, yet holds her peace, That has a hundred hands which take no bribe.
416. L. N. Sa'di in the _Gulistan_, Book viii., gives another explanation of this expression. «Tongues, stamens, and hands, branches.»
417.
Cupbearer, bring my wine-cup, let me grasp it! Bring that delicious darling, let me grasp it! That pleasing chain which tangles in its coils Wise men and fools together, let me grasp it!
417. L. N. _Bipechand_ seems a plural of dignity.
418.
Alas! my wasted life has gone to wrack! What with forbidden meats, and lusts, alack! And leaving undone what 'twas right to do, And doing wrong, my face is very black!
418. C. L. N. A. I. These whimsical outbursts of self-reproach in the midst of antinomian utterances are characteristic of Khayyam.
419.
I could repent of all, but of wine, never! I could dispense with all, but with wine, never! If so be I became a Musulman, Could I abjure my Magian wine? no, never!
419. L. N. The Magians sold wine.
420.
We rest our hopes on Thy free grace alone, Nor seek by merits for our sins to atone; Mercy drops where it lists, and estimates Ill done as undone, good undone as done.
420. L. N. A. I. This quatrain is also ascribed to the celebrated philosopher Avicenna. See No. 406.
421.
This is the form Thou gavest me of old, Wherein Thou workest marvels manifold; Can I aspire to be a better man, Or other than I issued from Thy mould?
421. C. L. N. A. I. This is a variation of No. 221.
422.
O Lord! to Thee all creatures worship pay, To Thee both small and great for ever pray, Thou takest woe away, and givest weal, Give then, or, if it please Thee, take away!
422. L. Scan _bandagita_, omitting _fatha_ before _te_. Vullers, p. 197.
423.
With going to and fro in this sad vale Thou art grown double, and thy credit stale, Thy nails are thickened like a horse's hoof, Thy beard is ragged as an ass's tail.
423. C. L. A. I. J. A description of old age.
424.
O unenlightened race of humankind, Ye are a nothing, built on empty wind! Yea, a mere nothing, hovering in the abyss, A void before you, and a void behind!
424. C. L. A. I. J. The technical name for existence between two non-existences is _Takwin_. Bl. _Ain i Akbari_, p. 198. Compare the term «_nunc stans_,» applied to Time by the Schoolmen.
425.
Each morn I say, «To-night I will repent Of wine, and tavern haunts no more frequent»; But while 'tis spring, and roses are in bloom, To loose me from my promise, O consent!
425. C. L. A. I. J.
426.
Vain study of philosophy eschew! Rather let tangled curls attract your view; And shed the bottle's life-blood in your cup, Or e'er death shed your blood, and feast on you.
426. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. _Bigorezi bi_, «better that you should eschew.»
427.
O heart! can'st thou the darksome riddle read, Where wisest men have failed, wilt thou succeed? Quaff wine, and make thy heaven here below, Who knows if heaven above will be thy meed?
427. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
428.
They that have passed away, and gone before, Sleep in delusion's dust for evermore; Go, boy, and fetch some wine, this is the truth, Their dogmas were but air, and wind their lore!
428. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. So Ecclesiastes, «I gave my heart to know wisdom ... and perceived that this also is vanity.»
429.
O heart! when on the Loved One's sweets you feed, You lose yourself, but find your Self indeed; And, when you drink of His entrancing cup, You hasten your escape from quick and dead!
429. C. L. N. A. I. J. Die to self, to live in God, your true self. See Max Müller, Hibbert Lectures, p. 375.
430.
Though I am wont a wine-bibber to be, Why should the people rail and chide at me? Would that all evil actions made men drunk, For then no sober people should I see!
430. C. N. A. I. J.
431.
Child of four elements and sevenfold heaven, Who fume and sweat because of these eleven, Drink! I have told you seventy times and seven, Once gone, nor hell will send you back, nor heaven.
431. C. L. N. A. I. J.
432.
With many a snare Thou dost beset my way, And threatenest, if I fall therein, to slay; Thy rule resistless sways the world, yet Thou Imputest sin, when I do but obey!
432. B. N. Allah is the _Fa'il i hakiki_, the only real agent, according to the Sufi view, _Hukmi tu Kuni_, «Thou givest thy order.»
433.
To Thee, whose essence baffles human thought, Our sins and righteous deeds alike seem naught, May Thy grace sober me, though drunk with sins, And pardon all the ill that I have wrought!
433. L. N.
434.
If this life were indeed an empty play, Each day would be an _'lid_ of festal day, And men might conquer all their hearts' desire, Fearless of after penalties to pay!
434. N. N takes _taklid_ in the sense of «authority,» but I think it alludes to Koran, xxix. 64. See _Gulshan i Raz_, p. 50.
435.
O wheel of heaven, you thwart my heart's desire, And rend to shreds my scanty joy's attire, The water that I drink you foul with earth, And turn the very air I breathe to fire!
435. C. L. N. A. I.
436.
O soul! could you but doff this flesh and bone, You'd soar a sprite about the heavenly throne; Had you no shame to leave your starry home, And dwell an alien on this earthly zone?
436. C. L. N. B. A. I.
437.
Ah, potter, stay thine hand' with ruthless art Put not to such base use man's mortal part! See, thou art mangling on thy cruel wheel Faridun's fingers, and Kai Khosrau's heart!
437. C. L. N. A. I. Faridun and Kai Khosrau were ancient kings of Persia. Kai Khosrau is usually identified with Cyrus.
438.
O rose! all beauties' charms thou dost excel, As wine excels the pearl within its shell; O fortune! thou dost ever show thyself More strange, although I seem to know thee well!
438. N. _Mimani_, You resemble.
439.
From this world's kitchen crave not to obtain Those dainties, seeming real, but really vain, Which greedy worldlings gorge to their own loss; Renounce that loss, so loss shall prove thy gain!
439. L. N. B.
440.
Plot not of nights, thy fellows' peace to blight, So that they cry to God the live-long night; Nor plume thee on thy wealth and might, which thieves May steal by night, or death, or fortune's might.
440. N. _Ta bar nikashand_, «Let us abstain from oppressing people, so that they may not heave a sigh, saying, O Lord.»
441.
This soul of mine was once Thy cherished bride, What caused Thee to divorce her from Thy side? Thou didst not use to treat her thus of yore, Why then now doom her in the world to abide?
441. L. N.
442.
Ah! would there were a place of rest from pain, Which we, poor pilgrims, might at last attain, And after many thousand wintry years, Renew our life, like flowers, and bloom again!
442. C. N. A. I. J.
443.
While in love's book I sought an augury; An ardent youth cried out in ecstasy, «Who owns a sweetheart beauteous as the moon, Might wish his moments long as years to be!»
443. C. L. N. A. I. Compare the «_sortes Virgilianæ._» Line 4 is freely paraphrased.
444.
Winter is past, and spring-tide has begun, Soon will the pages of life's book be done! Well saith the sage, «Life is a poison rank, And antidote, save grape-juice, there is none.»
444. C. L. N. A. I. J.
445.
Beloved, if thou a reverend Molla be, Quit saintly show, and feigned austerity, And quaff the wine that Murtaza purveys, And sport with Houris 'neath some shady tree!
445. N. Note the change from the imperative to the aorist. In line 4 scan _Murtazasha_. _Murtaza_ (Ali) is the celestial cupbearer.
446.
Last night I dashed my cup against a stone, In a mad drunken freak, as I must own, And lo! the cup cries out in agony, «You too, like me, shall soon be overthrown.»
446. C. L. N. A. B. I. _Saboyiy, ya i batni_, joined to the noun by euphonic or conjunctive _ya_.
447.
My heart is weary of hypocrisy, Cupbearer, bring some wine, I beg of thee! This hooded cowl and prayer-mat pawn for wine, Then will I boast me in security.
447. N.
448.
Audit yourself, your truce account to frame, See! you go empty, as you empty came; You say, «I will not drink and peril life,» But, drink or no, you must die all the same!
448. C. L. N. A. I.
449.
Open the door! O entrance who procurest, And guide the way, O Thou of guides the surest! Directors born of men shall not direct me, Their counsel comes to naught, but Thou endurest!
450.
In slandering and reviling you persist, Calling me infidel and atheist: My errors I will not deny, but yet Does foul abuse become a moralist?
450. C. L. N. A. I. In line 1 scan _goyi-yaz_, Bl., Prosody, p. 10. The _tashdid_ of _mukin_ is dropped.
451.
To find a remedy, put up with pain, Chafe not at woe, and healing thou wilt gain; Though poor, be ever of a thankful mind, 'Tis the sure method riches to obtain.
451. L. N. _Dawayiy_. The first _ya_ is the conjunctive _ya_ (Vullers, p. 16), the second _ya i tankir_.
452.
Give me a skin of wine, a crust of bread A pittance bare, a book of verse to read; With thee, O love, to share my lowly roof, I would not take the Sultan's realm instead!
452. N. B. _Tange_, the _izafat_ is displaced by _ya i tankir_, according to Lumsden, ii. 269.
453.
Reason not of the five, nor of the four, Be their dark problems one, or many score; We are but earth, go, minstrel, bring the lute, We are but air, bring wine, I ask no more!
453. N. C. L. A. I. J. give only the first line of this. Five senses, four elements.
454.
Why argue on Yasin and on Barat? Write me the draft for wine they call Barat! The day my weariness is drowned in wine Will seem to me as the great night Barat!
454. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Yasin_ is the 64th, and Barat the 9th, chapter of the Koran. _Barat_, the «night of power.»
455.
Whilst thou dost wear this fleshy livery, Step not beyond the bounds of destiny; Bear up, though very Rustums be thy foes, And crave no boon from friends like Hatim Tai!
455. C. L. N. A. I. J.
456.
These ruby lips, and wine, and minstrel boys, And lute, and harp, your dearly cherished toys, Are mere redundancies, and you are naught, Till you renounce the world's delusive joys.
456. L. N. _Hashw_, mere «stuffing,» leather and prunella.
457.
Bow down, heaven's tyranny to undergo, Quaff wine to face the world, and all its woe; Your origin and end are both in earth, But now you are _above_ earth, not _below_!
457. C. L. N. A. I. J.
458.
You know all secrets of this earthly sphere, Why then remain a prey to empty fear? You cannot bend things to your will, but yet Cheer up for the few moments you are here!
458. C. L. N. A. I. J. Scan _chim wakifiyay_.
459.
Behold, where'er we turn our ravished eyes, Sweet verdure springs, and crystal Kausars rise; And plains, once bare as hell, now smile as heaven: Enjoy this heaven with maids of Paradise!
459. C. L. N. A. B. I. J.
460.
Never in this false world on friends rely (I give this counsel confidentially), Put up with pain, and seek no antidote, Endure your grief, and ask no sympathy!
460. N.
461.
Of wisdom's dictates two are principal, Surpassing all your lore traditional; Better to fast than eat of every meat, Better to live alone than mate with all!
461. N. _Hadis i na goyayiy._ The unwritten revelations, or traditions, opposed to _Qur'an_ (Koran), the «reading.» So _sruti_ is opposed to _smriti_.
462.
Why unripe grapes are sharp, prithee explain, And then grow sweet, while wine is sharp again? When one has carved a block into a lute, Can he from that same block a pipe obtain?
462. L. N.
463.
When dawn doth silver the dark firmament, Why shrills the bird of dawning his lament? It is to show in dawn's bright looking-glass How of thy careless life a night is spent.
463. C. L. N. A. I. J. So Job, «Hast spread the sky as a molten looking-glass.»
464.
Cupbearer, come! from thy full-throated ewer Pour blood-red wine, the world's despite to cure! Where can I find another friend like wine, So genuine, so solacing, so pure?
464. C. L. N. A. I. J.
465.
Though you should sit in sage Aristo's room, Or rival Cæsar on his throne of Rum, Drain Jemshid's goblet, for your end's the tomb, Yea, were you Bahram's self, your end's the tomb!
465. N. _Jamhur_, a name of Buzurjimihr, _Wazir_ of Nushirwan. _Faghfur_, the Chinese emperor.
466.
It chanced into a potter's shop I strayed, He turned his wheel and deftly plied his trade, And out of monarchs' heads, and beggars' feet, Fair heads and handles for his pitchers made!
466. C. N. L. A. I. J. _Paya_, «the treadle.»
467.
If you have sense, true senselessness attain, And the Etern Cupbearer's goblet drain, If not, true senselessness is not for you, Not every fool true senselessness can gain!
467. L. N. Meaning, the «truly Mystical darkness of ignorance.» See _Gulshan i Raz_, p. 13.
468.
O Love! before you pass death's portal through, And potters make their jugs of me and you, Pour from this jug some wine, of headache void, And fill your cup, and fill my goblet too!
468. C. L. N. A. I. J. Headache, in allusion to the wine of Paradise, Koran, lvi. 17.
469.
O Love! while yet you can, with tender art, Lift sorrow's burden from your lover's heart; Your wealth of graces will not always last, But slip from your possession, and depart!
469. C. L. N. A. I. J. Some MSS. read _zinhar_ for _zihar_, either will scan.
470.
Bestir thee, ere death's cup for thee shall flow, And blows of ruthless fortune lay thee low; Acquire some substance _here_, there is none _there_, For those who thither empty-handed go!
470. L. N. Line 2 is in metre 4. Meaning, «Work while it is day.»
471.
Who framed the lots of quick and dead but Thou? Who turns the troublous wheel of heaven but Thou? Though we are sinful slaves, is it for Thee To blame us? Who created us but Thou?
471. L. N. A. I.
472.
O wine, most limpid, pure, and crystalline, Would I could drench this silly frame of mine With thee, that passers by might think 'twas thou, And cry, «Whence comest thou, fair master wine?»
472. L. N.
473.
A Shaikh beheld a harlot, and quoth he, «You seem a slave to drink and lechery»; And she made answer, «What I seem I am, But, Master, are you all you seem to be?»
473. L. N. The technical name of quatrains like this is _suwal o jawab_, or _muraja'at_. Gladwin, Persian Rhetoric, p. 40.
474.
If, like a ball, earth to my house were borne, When drunk, I'd rate it at a barley-corn; Last night they offered me in pawn for wine, But the rude vintner laughed that pledge to scorn.
474. C. L. N. A. I. J. Note the _yas i tankir_ in _Kuye_, _juye_, and _giraye_.
475.
Now in thick clouds Thy face Thou dost immerse, And now display it in this universe; Thou the spectator, Thou the spectacle, Sole to Thyself Thy glories dost rehearse.
475. C. L. N. A. I. J. Compare the Vulgate, «_ludens in orbe terrarum_,» and _Gulshan i Raz_, p. 14.
476.
Better to make one soul rejoice with glee, Than plant a desert with a colony; Rather one freeman bind with chains of love, Than set a thousand prisoned captives free!
476. L.N.
477.
O thou who for thy pleasure dost impart A pang of sorrow to thy fellow's heart, Go! mourn thy perished wit, and peace of mind, Thyself hast slain them, like the fool thou art!
477. C. L. N A. I. J.
478.
Wherever you can get two maunds of wine, Set to, and drink it like a libertine; Whoso acts thus will set his spirit free From saintly airs like yours, and grief like mine.
478. C. L. N. A. B. I. J. _Chu mane_, «of one like me.» So in No. 170 (the note which is wrong). Vullers, p. 254. Literally, «mustaches and beards.»
479.
So long as I possess two maunds of wine, Bread of the flower of wheat, and mutton chine, And you, O Tulip cheek, to share my hut, Not every Sultan's lot can vie with mine.
479. C. L. N. A. B. I.
480.
They call you wicked, if to fame you're known, And an intriguer, if you live alone, Trust me, though you were Khizr or Elias, 'Tis best to know none, and of none be known.
480. C. N. I.
481.
Yes! here am I with wine and feres again! I did repent, but, ah! 'twas all in vain; Preach not to me of Noah and his flood, But pour a flood of wine to drown my pain!
481. C. L. N. A. I. J. _Tauba i Nassuh_, a repentance not to be repented of. Nicolas. In line 2 note the _izafat_ dropped after silent _he_.
482.
For union with my love I sigh in vain, The pangs of absence I can scarce sustain, My grief I dare not tell to any friend; O trouble strange, sweet passion, bitter pain!
482. N. These quatrains are called _firakiya_, and are rare in Khayyam.
483.
'Tis dawn! I hear the loud Muezzin's call, And here am I before the vintner's hall; This is no time of piety. Be still! And drop your talk and airs devotional!
483. C. L. N. A. I. J.
484.
Angel of joyful foot! the dawn is nigh; Pour wine, and lift your tuneful voice on high, Sing how Jemshids and Khosraus bit the dust, Whelmed by the rolling months, from Tir to Dai!
484. C. L. N. A. I. _Tir_ and _Dai_, April and December.
485.
Frown not at revellers, I beg of thee, For all thou keepest righteous company; But drink, for, drink or no, 'tis all the same, If doomed to hell, no heaven thou'lt ever see.
485. C. L. N. A. I. J. Koran, xvi. 38: «Some of them there were, whom Allah guided, and there were others doomed to err.»
486.
I wish that Allah would rebuild these skies, And earth, and that at once, before my eyes, And either raze my name from off his roll, Or else relieve my dire necessities!
486. N. This rather sins against Horace's canon, «_Nec Deus intersit_,» etc.
487.
Lord! make thy bounty's cup for me to flow, And bread unbegged for day by day bestow; Yea, with thy wine make me beside myself. No more to feel the headache of my woe!
487. C. L. N. A. I. J.
488.
Omar! of burning heart, perchance to burn In hell, and feed its bale-fires in thy turn, Presume not to teach Allah clemency, For who art thou to teach, or He to learn?
488. C. L. N. A. I. J. The Persian preface states that, after his death, Omar appeared to his mother in a dream, and repeated this quatrain to her. For the last line I am indebted to Mr. Fitzgerald.
489.
Cheer up! your lot was settled yesterday! Heedless of all that you might do or say, Without so much as «By your leave» they fixed Your lot for all the morrows yesterday!
489. C. L. A. B. I. Predestination.
490.
I never would have come, had I been asked, I would as lief not go, if I were asked, And, to be short, I would annihilate All coming, being, going, were I asked!
490. C. L. N. (in part) A. B. I. J. So the Ecclesiast, «Therefore I hated life,» etc.
491.
Man is a cup, his soul the wine therein, Flesh is a pipe, spirit the voice within; O Khayyam, have you fathomed what man is? A magic lantern with a light therein!
492.
O skyey wheel, all base men you supply With baths, mills, and canals that run not dry, While good men have to pawn their goods for bread: Pray, who would give a fig for such a sky?
492. B. L. In line 3 I read _nih and_ for _nihand_, which will not scan. Line 4 is slightly paraphrased.
493.
A potter at his work I chanced to see, Pounding some earth and shreds of pottery; I looked with eyes of insight, and methought 'Twas Adam's dust with which he made so free!
493. C. L. A. I. J. Note the arrangement of the prepositions _bar_ . . _bazer_. Bl., Prosody, xiii.
494.
The Saki knows my _genus properly_, To all woe's _species_ he holds a key, Whene'er my _mood_ is sad, he brings me wine, And that makes all the _difference_ to me!
494. C. L. A. I. A play on terms of Logic.
495.
Dame Fortune! all your acts and deeds confess That you are foul oppression's votaress; You cherish bad men, and annoy the good; Is this from dotage, or sheer foolishness?
495. C. L. A. I. J. _Mu'takif_, a devotee.
496.
You, who in carnal lusts your time employ, Wearing your precious spirit with annoy, Know that these things you set your heart upon Sooner or later must the soul destroy!
497.
Hear from the spirit world this mystery: Creation is summed up, O man, in thee; Angel and demon, man and beast art thou, Yea, thou _art_ all thou dost _appear_ to be!
497. L. Man, the microcosm. Line 2 is one syllable short.
498.
If popularity you would ensue, Speak well of Moslem, Christian, and Jew; So shall you be esteemed of great and small, And none will venture to speak ill of you.
498. L.
499.
O wheel of heaven, what have I done to you, That you should thus annoy me? Tell me true; To get a drink I have to cringe and stoop, And for my bread you make me beg and sue.
499. L. _Abruy_, «honour.»
500.
No longer hug your grief and vain despair, But in this unjust world be just and fair; And since the issue of the world is naught, Think you are naught, and so shake off dull care!
500. L. B. In line 3 scan _nesatiyast_.
THE
QUATRAINS OF OMAR KHAYYAM
TRANSLATED INTO PROSE FROM THE FRENCH VERSION OF
MONSIEUR J.B. NICOLAS
THE QUATRAINS OF KHAYYAM
This grand old poet, who flourished in the 11th century and who brought into Khorasan the delights of the Court of the Seldjoukides, still, in our day, continues to charm with the pleasures of the palace of the Kadjars at Teheran. But the difficulty, on the one hand, of translating a writer so essentially abstract in his philosophic thought, so Mystically foreign in his figurative expressions (too often presented in the form of a repulsive materialism), and on the other, the embarrassment I could foresee in the correcting of proofs at so great a distance from Paris, and above all the feeling of my incapacity for undertaking so great a work, always prevented my publishing anything up to the present time.
On my last journey to Paris, I met some friends eager for something new in the way of Oriental literature, among whom I am pleased to mention Madam Blanchecotte, moralist and poet, known through her many witty and impassioned publications. After having listened to the brief quotations which I was able to cite to them from the quatrains of the poet with whom we are now occupied, they so strongly urged me to publish a complete translation, and put so much emphasis on their demand and so much kindness in their offers of service, that I decided to conform to their desires in editing this work to-day.
I should, however, still have considered it beyond my powers, without the co-operation of Hassan-Ali-Khan, minister plenipotentiary from Persia at the Court of the Tuileries, who put himself out to aid me with his profound erudition and valuable advice.
The history of Khayyam, bound to that of two persons who played a great rôle in the annals of the country, is, I believe, of sufficient interest to warrant my telling it here as it has been transmitted to us by the Persian historians.
Khayyam, born in a village situated near Nishapur, in Khorasan, went to complete his studies at the celebrated _medresseh_ of that city, towards the end of the year 1042 of the Christian era. Accounts tell us that this college had acquired at that time the reputation of producing pupils of rare distinction, from among whom men of talent and remarkable skill often sprung up and rapidly attained to the highest positions in the empire.
Abdul-Kassem and Hassan-Sebbah, fellow-students with Khayyam, were the two comrades to whom he was especially attached, notwithstanding a divergence of character and opinion which would seem to indicate in him another choice. One day Khayyam asked his two friends, in a jesting manner, if a compact entered into among them, and based upon absolute necessity, for that one of the three whom Fortune most favored to come to the aid of the other two, heaping benefits upon them, would appear to them a childish thing. «No, no,» answered they, «the idea is excellent and we will adopt it with all eagerness.» Immediately the three friends clasped hands and vowed that when the time came they would be faithful to their agreement. This pact but stimulated the emulation of the three young people. They applied themselves to their studies with more ardor even than was demanded of them, since in accordance with the tradition of the college, the high places belong to those who merit them.
Khayyam, of a sweet and modest nature, was rather given to the contemplation of divine things than to the pleasures of worldly life. This tendency and the kind of study he cultivated made of him a Mystic poet, a philosopher at once skeptical and fatalistic, a Sufi--in a word, what most Oriental poets are.
Abdul-Kassem, on the contrary, ambitious and positive in the full acceptation of the word, anxious to come into power, applied himself principally to the study of the history of his country, which presented to him numerous examples of celebrated men who, by their merit and courage, had come into the highest offices, and where, besides, he found excellent lessons in all branches of administration. He became an illustrious statesman. As for Hassan-Sebbah, as ambitious as his fellow-student Abdul-Kassem, but less skilful, and more violent than he in the application of means, artful and jealous of the superiority of his comrades, he followed somewhere nearly the same studies, holding ever to the purpose of serving himself by the ruin of all those who dared to oppose his advancement in the career he had chosen. He also became celebrated, as will be shown farther on in this preface, through the cruelties he committed and the blood he spilled.
Their studies ended, the three friends left college and separated to return to their own homes, where they remained a certain length of time without renown. Abdul-Kassem, however, was not long in making himself advantageously known at the Court of Alp-Arslan, the second king of the dynasty of the Seldjoukides, through divers writings on the subject of administration, and soon became the private secretary of that monarch, then under-secretary of State, and finally Prime Minister.
Alp-Arslan, in putting this skilful administrator at the head of affairs in his empire, conferred upon him the honorary title of Nizam-el-Moulk, «Regulator of the Empire,» a title which, among the Persians, replaces the name of the person to whom it is granted. The historians of that time write in eulogy of this great man and, attributing to his virtues and his ability the success and prosperity of Alp-Arslan's reign, hold in profound admiration the discernment of that monarch, who knew how to attach to himself a minister endowed with so much skill in directing the affairs of his vast Principalities, which attained, under his administration, the highest degree of glory of which the Persian annals make mention.
It was towards that epoch, where Nizam-el-Moulk (for henceforth it is by this title that we shall designate him) had arrived at the apogee of his power, that his two friends came to recall to him the contract concluded amongst them. «What do you demand of me?» he said to them.
«I only ask,» responded Khayyam, «that I may enjoy the revenues of my native village. I am a Sufi and not ambitious; if you accede to my request, I could, under my paternal roof, far from the inseparable fetters of the things of this world, cultivate poesy, which delights my soul, and peaceably contemplate the works of the Creator, which is acceptable to my mind.»
«As for me,» said Hassan-Sebbah, «I ask a place at Court.»
The minister granted everything: the young poet returned to his village, of which he became chief, and Hassan-Sebbah took his place at Court, where, crafty courtier that he was, he was not long in getting into the good graces of the monarch. But, although he had already acquired the highest distinction possible, thanks to the effective aid of Nizam-el-Moulk, his envious and zealous mind could not accommodate itself to the kind of submission in which he found himself, face to face with his benefactor. He immediately went to work to overturn and supplant him.
To this end, he commenced to insinuate to Alp-Arslan that the royal finances were not in good state, the minister having neglected the collecting of taxes, and not having rendered an account upon this important subject for three years. The Prince gave ear to these treacherous criticisms, and immediately Nizam-el-Moulk was sent for to Court, where Alp-Arslan asked him, in presence of all the great dignitaries, called together for this purpose, for a complete account of uncollected taxes and a definite statement of all finances of State. Nizam-el-Moulk excused himself as best he could for the delay of which his Majesty complained, on the ground of certain circumstances beyond his control, and promised to occupy himself seriously with the question, with the aim of being able to present a complete accounting in six months' time. The Prince appeared satisfied and allowed the minister to retire. But he had scarcely passed the sill of the palace door when Hassan-Sebbah, approaching the King remarked that if anything were needed to prove the incapacity of the minister in a matter of this kind, it was to be found precisely in the extraordinary delay that he asked for putting the finances of the Empire in order. This observation struck the Prince, who asked the courtier making it if he wished to take charge of this work, and if he would engage to have it finished in a shorter space of time. Upon the affirmative response of the artful Hassan, who only asked for forty days for the accomplishment of the task, an order was given to Nizam-el-Moulk to put the archives of the finances immediately at his disposition, the _moustofis_ (writings of the Chief Justice) and all the details of the management. Hassan, delighted at finding himself so suddenly at the head of the most important branch of the administration, already considered the complete ruin of Nizam-el-Moulk as assured. The latter, on his side, perceived, but a little too late, the imprudence he had been guilty of in placing in so high a position a man whom he ought to have known, and concerning whom he should have been on his guard. However, he did not despair of frustrating, scheme against scheme, the well-advanced projects of his ambitious antagonist. Knowing by experience how corruptible the men of his time were, and recognizing, too, the proverbial greediness and weakness of character of the confidant of Hassan-Sebbah to whom the latter believed it possible to trust the work that he had undertaken upon the order of Alp-Arslan, he did not hesitate to furnish to one of his favorites, upon whose faithfulness he knew he could count, sums large enough to be irresistible in the carrying out of the plan which he had conceived.
The favorite of the minister, a safe man, accustomed to this kind of service, so skilfully used this money that he was not long in winning the good graces of Hassan's weak and interested confidant, and was thus able to furnish to his master all the information which he awaited with impatience, and of which he could make good use when the right moment was come. That moment was the expiration of the forty days which Hassan-Sebbah had demanded.
On the appointed day all was ready, and Hassan seemed to triumph; but Nizam-el-Moulk had on that very day when the voluminous record which his adversary had prepared was to be put before the King in official audience, given his favorite some final instructions which should throw Hassan into confusion. This faithful and adroit servitor went to find the confidant, whose confidence he had gained by means of gifts, and begged him to show him the wonderful statement which Nizam-el-Moulk had declared could not be finished in less than six months, and his master had had the skill to complete in forty days. Hassan's confidant was occupied at this moment, and besides, suspected nothing; he turned over to his friend the _defter_--the bundle of detached leaflets which formed the record. He, putting to good use the distraction of the confidant, detached the _defter_ and, in the twinkling of an eye, confounded the order of the leaves, as his master had recommended to him. Then, placing the _defter_ on the carpet, he launched forth into pompous eulogy upon the skill of Hassan-Sebbah and of his worthy acolyte who had so actively
## participated in this eminent work. Some hours afterward Alp-Arslan
received in grand audience his ministers and officers of the Empire, to assist at the solemn presentation of the financial accounting of Hassan-Sebbah.
Nizam-el-Moulk humbly kept himself in one corner of the audience hall, awaiting the result of his stratagem. Upon the signal of Alp-Arslan, Hassan-Sebbah deposited at the monarch's feet a _fhrist_, a little book (an index), by means of which the Prince could call, in the order of the provinces, for the leaflets contained in the _defter_, which Hassan-Sebbah took from the hands of his trusted helper. At the first call, Hassan sought in vain the desired leaflet. He was haunted by treachery and was troubled; the rumor that this incident provoked in the hall, the presence of the King who was irritated at finding such disorder in a compilation of this importance, added to Hassan's confusion, and he was immediately forced to retire, after a severe reprimand on the part of Alp-Arslan. Nizam-el-Moulk was avenged; he respectfully approached the King and made the observation to him that it was hardly to be expected that there would be much regularity in so serious a work, done in such haste by incapable people.
After this check, Hassan never again appeared at Court. History tells us that he went on a voyage to Syria, where he adopted the dogmas of the Ishmaelite sect, dogmas that he resolved to import into Persia, adding to them other novelties more in accordance with the opinions of the Sufis, then very numerous in the kingdom, with the aim of forming an army and becoming thus a terror to his enemies. He did, in fact, return to Persia, but concealed himself carefully, in order to escape the notice of Nizam-el-Moulk, whose sentiments towards him he suspected. He went back to his native city, Rhei, after having lived for some time at Ispahan, where, emboldened by the facility with which he made new recruits and aided by his neophytes, he formed no less a project than that of making the sovereign himself tremble on his throne. At Rhei he drew around him some malcontents, who did not hesitate to adopt the dogmas that he taught them, and who declared themselves ready to second him in his designs. He then resolved to go, with a limited number of his disciples, and fortify himself in the mountain of Alamout, near the city of Kazbin, where he commenced to make raids on the surrounding country, by means of which he provided for the needs of the moment and prepared an equipment for his little troop, which soon began to be formidable.
It was about this time that Alp-Arslan died, leaving his vast estates to his son, Malek-Chah, whom he strongly recommended to confide the administration to Nizam-el-Moulk, his faithful and pious minister. But this minister did not long enjoy these new favors. Malek-Chah, having had the weakness to lend his ear to the calumnious reports of his enemies, took away from him his turban and his inkstand, insignia of the high functions which he had so nobly fulfilled. This disgrace, facilitating a particular vengeance, caused the death of the great statesman. They found him one morning, stretched out under his tent in the royal camp, assassinated by a satellite of Hassan-Sebbah. Before he expired, according to the story of the chronicle, he had time to write a piece of verse to Malek-Chah, in which he recommended to his benevolence his twelve sons, to whom, he said, he bequeathed his old and loyal services.
Hassan-Sebbah did not the less continue his bloody excursions, respecting neither rank nor sex, cutting the throats of all that came under his hand, without pity. Malek-Chah, frightened, was obliged to send troops to put an end to these expeditions, which made trouble and confusion in the whole extent of the Empire. But Hassan's followers increased daily, and soon this chief saw himself strong enough to repulse the royal troops in a vigorous attack, and compel them to beat a retreat. After this success, Hassan put no limit to his exploits, and acquired such renown that nothing appeared to be able to resist him.
The death of Malek-Chah took place unexpectedly soon after that of Nizam-el-Moulk, and Hassan, hastening to profit by some experiments of the celebrated Sultan Sandjar, Malek-Chah's successor, there were incessant wars in the different branches of the House of Seldjoukides, wars which prolonged themselves until the death of Tougroul III., or from forty to forty-five years. Sultan Sandjar, rightly disturbed at the progress of Hassan's invasion, resolved to entirely destroy a band of brigands in his territory, whose depredations and murders had spread terror in all the provinces. To this end, he re-organized an army with which he marched in person against the aggressors; but, arrived at a certain distance from Mount Alamout, he saw one morning, upon waking, a dagger sunk in the earth near the bolster of his bed, whose blade pierced a note addressed to him, where he read, with fright, these words:
«O Sandjar! know that if I had not wished to respect your days, the hand which sunk this dagger in the earth could as well have sunk it in your heart.»
It is said that the Sultan was so overcome by the reading of this note, which revealed to him the marvellous power of Hassan-Sebbah over his trusty followers, that he relinquished for the time being his plan of attack.
But let us return to Khayyam, who, remaining a stranger to all these alternatives of wars, intrigues, and revolts with which this epoch was so filled, lived tranquilly in his native village, giving himself up to a passionate study of the philosophy of the Sufis. Surrounded by numerous friends he sought with them, in study and entertainment, that ecstatic contemplation which others believe that they find in uttering cries and screams until the voice is gone, as the crying dervishes do; or in the circular movements that are practiced with frenzy until vertigo ensues, as by the whirling dervishes; or finally, in the atrocious tortures which the Hindoos inflict upon themselves, until they lose consciousness. The Persian historians state that Khayyam loved especially to converse and drink with his friends, in the moonlight on a terrace before his house, seated upon a carpet, surrounded by singers and musicians, with a cup-bearer, who, cup in hand, presented it in turn to the joyous guests. We believe we cannot better terminate this rapid biographical and historic sketch than in adding to the life and works of our poet two very characteristic quotations.
During one of these evenings of which we are speaking, there suddenly came a gust of wind which extinguished the candles and overturned the pitcher of wine that was imprudently placed too near the edge of the terrace. The pitcher was broken and the wine spilled. Immediately Khayyam, irritated, improvised this impious quatrain, addressed to the All-Powerful:
«Thou hast broken my pitcher of wine, my God! Thus hast Thou shut upon me the gate of joy, O Lord! It is I who drink, and it is Thou who committest the disorder of drunkenness! Oh! (would that my mouth were filled with earth!) couldst Thou be drunk, my Lord?»
The poet, after having pronounced this, casting his eyes upon a mirror, perceived that his face was black as coal. It was a punishment from heaven. Then he made this other quatrain, not less audacious than the first, and which expresses in an absolute manner, the repulsion of the poet for the doctrine of future punishment written in the Koran, and preached so ardently by the mullahs. The Sufis consider this doctrine not only in direct opposition to their own, but as unworthy the pity and clemency of the Divinity. Here is the quatrain:
«What man here below has not sinned, can you say? And how could he have lived, had he not committed sin, can you tell? So, if I do wrong and you punish me wrongly, what is the difference which exists between you and me, I ask?»
But let us come to the complete thought of the poet which deduces itself so energetically and with so much unity through the fantasy or the mysticism of his quatrains.
J.B. Nicolas.
NOTE.--The Translator being unfortunately familiar with at least seven translations and paraphrases of Omar, has found it by no means easy to expunge from memory the various renderings of the text. This «sponging out» was necessary in order that a faithful presentation of Nicolas' version of Omar should be made. With this comment, he leaves the translation to be judged on its possible merit, adding only this--that, declining metre (Fitzgerald's own domain), he has sought to clothe the prose in verbal sonance which should not disguise or mar the inherent music of the Omarian brook. Fidelity to the text, however, has been the first consideration.
R.A.
THE QUATRAINS OF OMAR KHAYYAM
1.
One morning, coming from the tavern I heard a voice which said: Come, joyous drinkers, youthful fools, arise, and fill with me a cup of wine, ere Fate shall come to fill the cup of our existence.
2.
O Thou who in the universe art the object chosen of my heart! Thou who art more dear than the soul which gives me life, than the eyes which give me light! O Idol, though in life there be no thing more precious than this life, Thou art indeed a hundred times more precious than that life.
3.
Who led thee here this night, thus given up to wine? Who, indeed, raising the veil which hid thee, has been able to lead thee here? Who, finally, brought thee as rapidly as the wind which fans the fire that still burned in thy absence?
4.
We meet but chagrin and misfortune in this world, which serves us as a tent for the time. Alas! No problem of creation has been solved for us, and behold! we leave it with hearts full of regret at knowing naught about it.
5.
O Khadja, give us lawfully a single one of our desires; reserve thy breath and lead us into the way of God. Surely we walk aright, it is thou that seest crosswise; heal, then, thine eyes and leave us here in peace.
6.
Come, come, arise, and, for the healing of my heart, one problem solve for me: yet quickly bring me a pitcher of wine, and let us drink before they make pitchers out of our own dust.
7.
When I am dead, wash me with the juice of the vine; in place of prayer, sing above my tomb the praise of the cup and the wine, and, if you would find me again at the day of doom, seek me in the dust of the tavern floor.
8.
Since no one has ever been able to answer thee from one day to the next, hasten to glad thy heart filled with sadness. Drink, O adorable Moon! drink from thy silver cup, for long shalt thou turn in the firmament without finding us here again.
9.
Would that the lover [the true believer] were intoxicated the whole year, mad, absorbed with wine, covered with dishonor! For, when we have sound reason, chagrin assails us on all sides; but when we are in wine, well, let come what will!
10.
In Heaven's name! with what hope does the sage attach his heart to the illusory treasures of this palace of misfortune? Oh! that the One who gave me the name of drunkard would recant his error, for how can he see the tavern's sign from his exalted abode.
11.
The Koran, which is but a name for The Sublime Word, is, however, read only from time to time and not with constancy; while ever on the brim of the cup is found a verse full of light which one can read always and everywhere.
12.
Thou that drinkest not wine shouldst not for this reason blame the drunkard, for I am ready to renounce God, myself, should He order me to renounce wine. Thou glorifiest thyself for not drinking wine, but such glory but ill befits those who commit acts a hundredfold more reprehensible than drunkenness.
13.
Though my body be beautiful, and the perfume it exhales agreeable, though the color of my face rival that of the tulip, and my figure be supple as the cypress, it has not been demonstrated why my celestial author placed me upon this earth.
14.
I would drink so much wine that the odor should come out of the earth when I have been returned to it, and that drinkers who wish to visit my tomb may fall senseless from the sole effect of this odor.
15.
In the region of hope, form as many friends as you can; in the time of existence, bind yourself to a perfect friend, for, know well that a hundred Kaabas, made of earth and water, are not worth one heart. Leave, then, thy Kaabas and rather seek a heart.
16.
When I take in my hand a cup of wine and, in the joy of my soul, become intoxicate, then, in that state of fire which devours me, I see a hundred miracles grow real, and words, clear as the most limpid water, come to explain the mystery of all things.
17.
Since the duration of a day is only two stages, make haste to drink wine, the limpid wine; for know well that you near the end of your vanishing existence. And, since you know that this world drags all to decay, be wise, and, also, day and night be drenched in wine.
18.
We who give ourselves up to the will of wine offer with joy our souls in holocaust to the laughing lips of the juice divine. Oh! rapturous sight! Our cup-bearer holds in one hand the neck of the flask and in the other the cup overflowing, as if inviting us to receive the purest of the blood!
19.
Yes, we, seated in the midst of this treasure in ruins, surrounded by wine and dancers, have put in pawn [in order to procure them] all that we possess: soul, heart, goods--everything but the cup. We are thus freed from hope of pardon and fear of punishment. We are beyond the air, the earth, and fire and water.
20.
The distance which separates incredulity from faith is but a breath,--that which separates doubt from certainty is equally but a breath. Let us, then, pass this precious space of a breath gaily, for our life also is only separated [from death] by the space of a breath.
21.
O Wheel of Destiny! destruction comes of thy implacable hate. Tyranny for thee is an act of predilection which thou hast committed from the commencement of centuries; and thou, also, O Earth, if one search in thy bosom, what inappreciable treasures will he not find there!
22.
My turn of existence has slipped around in a few days. It has passed as passes the wind over the desert. Then, while remains to me a breath of life, two days shall be for which I never need be troubled, the day which has not come and that which now has passed.
23.
This priceless ruby comes from a mine of its own, this rare pearl is pregnant with a character its own; our different dogmas on this matter are erroneous, since the enigma of perfect love is explained in a language of its own [and that is not conveyed to us].
24.
Since to-day is my turn for youth, I intend to pass it in drinking wine, for that is my pleasure. Begin not to talk of its bitterness, to speak ill of this delicious juice, for it is agreeable, and is only bitter because it enforces the bitterness of my life.
25.
O my poor heart! Since thy lot is to be bruised to death by chagrin, since nature wills that thou be wounded each day with some new torment, tell me, O my soul, why stay you in my body, since you must finally leave it some day?
26.
Thou canst not count to-day on seeing the day after to-morrow; even to think of this to-morrow would be the part of folly; if thy heart is awakened, lose not in inaction this instant of life [which remains to thee] and for the duration of which I see no warranty.
27.
It is not necessary to knock at every door unless there be a reason for it. It is better to accommodate oneself to the good and the bad here below, for hereafter we can only enjoy the number of moves which destiny presents upon the chessboard of this terrestrial ball.
28.
This jug [earthen vessel] has been, like me, a loving and unhappy creature; it has sighed for a lock of some young beauty's hair; this handle that you see attached to its neck was an amorous arm passed about the neck of some girl.
29.
Before your time or mine, there were many twilights, many dawns, and it is not without reason that the movement of rotation is enforced upon the heavens. Be careful as you place your foot upon this dust, for it has, without doubt, formed the eyes of someone young and fair.
30.
The temple of idols and the Kaaba are places of adoration; the chime of the bells is but a hymn chanted to the praise of the All-Powerful. The _mehrab_ [Mohammedan pulpit], the church, the chapel, the cross are, in truth, but different stations for rendering homage to the Deity.
31.
Existing things were already predestined upon the tablet of creation. The brush [of the universe] did not paint good and bad. With destiny God imprinted whatever should be so imprinted, and the efforts that we make in these directions are wholly lost.
32.
I can but vaguely tell my secret to the bad or to the good. I cannot elaborate or explain my thought, which is essentially brief. I see a place of which I can only trace a description; I possess a secret which I cannot unveil.
33.
False money is not current among us. The broom has rid our joyous dwelling of it completely. An old man, returning from the tavern, said to me: Drink wine, my friend, for other lives shall follow yours in your long sleep.
34.
In the face of the decrees of Providence, nothing avails but resignation. Among men nothing avails but seeming and hypocrisy. I have employed every ruse, the strongest that the human mind can invent, but destiny has always overturned my projects.
35.
If a stranger shows you fidelity, consider him as a kinsman; but if a kinsman endeavors to betray you, regard him as an enemy. If poison cures you, consider it an antidote, and if the antidote does not agree with you, regard it as a poison.
36.
Except Thy absence there is nothing of worth that can bruise to the quick; he cannot be acute who is not taken with Thy subtle charms, and, although there exist in Thy mind no care for any one, there is none who may not be preoccupied with Thee.
37.
As long as I am not drunk, my happiness is incomplete. When I am overcome with wine, ignorance replaces my reason. But there exists an intermediary state between drunkenness and sound reason. Oh! with what happiness do I enslave myself to such a state, since in it there is life!
38.
Who will believe that He who fashioned the cup could think of destroying it? All these beautiful heads, all these beautiful arms, all these dainty hands, are by what love created and by what hate destroyed?
39.
It is the effect of thy ignorance which makes thee fear death and abhor annihilation, for it is evident that from this annihilation shoots up a branch of immortality. Since my soul has been revived by the breath of Jesus, eternal death has fled far from me.
40.
Imitate the tulip which flowers at New-year's; take, like her, a cup in thy hand and, if the occasion presents itself, drink, drink of wine in happiness with some fair girl whose cheeks are tinted with the color of this flower, for this blue wheel [dome], like a breath of wind, can suddenly overturn thee.
41.
Since things are not allowed to come to pass as we desire, to what purpose are our designs and our efforts? We are constantly tormenting ourselves, speaking to ourselves with sighs of regret. Ah! we have arrived too late; too soon will it be necessary for us to depart!
42.
Since the celestial wheel and that of destiny have never been favorable, what matters it whether we are able to count seven heavens or believe that there are eight? There are [I repeat it] two days for which I need not care; the day which has not come and that which now is gone.
43.
O Khayyam! why so much sorrow for a sin committed? What comfort more or less do you find in this self-torment? He who has not sinned cannot enjoy the sweetness of pardon. It is for sin that pardon must exist; in that event why entertain a fear?
44.
No one has access to the secrets of God behind the mysterious curtain; no one [even in mind] can penetrate there; we have no other dwelling than the earthly mind. Oh, regret! for this also is an enigma not less difficult to comprehend.
45.
Long time have I delved in this inconstant world, this momentary shelter; and in my searches have employed all faculties with which I am endowed. Ah, well! and I have found the moon to pale before the light of Thy visage, that the cypress is deformed beside Thy beauteous form.
46.
In the mosque, in the _medresseh_ [school annexed to the mosque], in the church, and in the synagogue, they have a horror of Hell and seek for Paradise, but the seed of such disquiet never germinates in the hearts of those who penetrate the secrets of the All-Powerful.
47.
You have traveled over the world! Ah, well! all that you have seen is nothing; all that you have seen and all that you have heard are equally nothing. You have gone from one end of the universe to the other, all that is nothing; you have summed it all up in one corner of your room, all that is nothing, still nothing.
48.
One night I saw in thought a sage who said to me: Sleep, O my friend, has never caused the rose of happiness to bloom for anyone; why lend yourself to aught so similar to death? Rather drink wine, for you will sleep enough when buried in the earth.
49.
Had the human heart an exact knowledge of the secrets of life, it would also know, at the point of death, the secrets of God. If to-day, when you are with yourself, you know nothing, what will you know to-morrow when you shall be separated from yourself?
50.
The day when the heavens shall be confounded, when the stars shall be obscured, I will stop Thee upon Thy way, O Idol! and, taking Thee by the hem of Thy robe, will ask of Thee why Thou hast robbed me of life [after giving it to me].
51.
We should tell no secrets to the vilely indiscreet; from the nightingale, even, should we conceal them. Consider, then, the torment you inflict on human souls by forcing them to disrobe thus before the gaze of all.
52.
O Cupbearer! since time is here, ready to break down you and me, this world for neither you nor me can be a place of permanence. But, equally, be well convinced that while this jug of wine is here 'twixt you and me, our God is in our hands.
53.
Long time, indeed, with cup in hand, I walked among the flowers; nevertheless none of my projects has been realized in this world. But, although wine has not led me to the goal of my desires, I will not stray from its path, for when one follows a road he cannot retrogress.
54.
Put a cup of wine in my hand, for my heart is inflamed, and my life slips away as quicksilver. Arise, then, for the favors of fortune are only a dream; arise, for the fire of thy youth is running away like the water of a torrent.
55.
We are the idolaters of love, but the Musulman differs from us; we are like the pitiful ant, but Salomon is our foe. Our visages should aye be paled with love, and our apparel in rags, and yet the mart for silken stuffs is here below.
56.
To drink wine and rejoice is my gospel of life. To be as indifferent to heresy as to religion is my creed. I asked the bride of the human race [the world] what her dowry was, and she answered: My dowry consists in the joy of my heart.
57.
I am worthy neither of Hell nor a celestial abode; God knows from what clay he has moulded me. Heretical as a dervish and foul as a lost woman, I have neither wealth, nor fortune, nor hope of Paradise.
58.
Thy passion, man, resembles in all things a house dog which never leaves his kennel. It has the slyness of the fox, it lies low like a hare, and to the rage of the tiger adds the voracity of a wolf.
59.
How beautiful they are, these different greens which mingle on the edge of a brook! One thinks they must have had their birth upon the lips of one divinely fair. Place not thy foot upon them with disdain; they spring from dust which, once a face, was tinted with the colors of a rose.
60.
Each heart that God illumines with the light of love, as it frequents the mosque or synagogue, inscribes its name upon the book of love, and is set free from fear of Hell while it awaits the joys of Paradise.
61.
A cup of wine is better than the kingdom of Kawous, and preferable to Kobad's throne or to the realm of Thous. The sighs to which, at dawn, a lover is the prey are sweeter than the groans of praying hypocrites.
62.
Though sin hath made me ugly and forlorn, not without hope am I like some idolater relying on his temple gods. So, on the morn I die of yesternight's carouse, give me some wine and call the one Beloved, for Hell and Paradise are one to me.
63.
If I drink wine 'tis not for mere desire; nor for the rousing of the mob or insult to the Faith. No, 'tis for a passing knowledge of relief from self. No other motive could enwreath the cup.
64.
Men claim fore-knowledge, predicating Hell or Heaven. How plain their fault! How asinine their faith! For know that if all lovers of the fair and of the cup deserve a Hell, then Paradise will be a void.
65.
In Cheeban [a month] I must not embrace the vine; in Redjeb I am consecrate to Him. By right these sixty suns to Allah and his Prophet are assigned: let Ramazan in mercy bring the cooling cup again.
66.
Now Ramazan has come, the vintage passed, and pledging of the cup and simple customs are afar. Yet full the wine pots are, and still untouched, and houris wait for us in fond suspense.
67.
This rolling hostelry we call the world, where light and darkness alternate, is but the ruin of a Jamshid's entertainment of a hundred Kings, or e'en a faint memento of a host of hunters like to Bahram's self.
68.
To-day when fortune's rose is burgeoning, fill high the cup. Drink deep, O friend, drink deep, for time is not thy friend or ever willingly repeats a day like this.
69.
This palace where great Bahram loved to drink now herds the young gazelle, and in it lions sleep. Where Bahram snared the swift wild ass, the snare of Time has in its turn snared him.
70.
The clouds expand and weep upon the earth. No longer can we live without the amaranthine cup. The tender green glads weary eyes to-day, but oh! that emerald verdure growing from our dust, whose sight will it rejoice?
71.
To-day, which we call Adine [Wednesday], leave the tiny cup and drink wine from a bowl. If other days you drank but one fair bowl, to-day drink two, for Adine ranks its fellow days, save one.
72.
O heart! since this world makes you sad, since souls so pure must leave the tenement of clay, go, sit upon the verdure of the field sometimes, ere verdure springs in turn from your own dust.
73.
This wine, which by its nature hath a multitude of forms, which now is animal and now is plant, can never cease to be, for its imperishable self ordains a lasting life though forms may disappear.
74.
No smoke ascends above my holocaust of crime: could man ask more? This hand, which man's injustice raises to my head, no comfort brings, even though it touch the hem of saintly robes.
75.
The one on whom you surely most rely, will be your enemy, if but you cleanse the eyes that are within. Far better, for the short time which remains, to count but little on our friends. The talk of men to-day is but a broken reed.
76.
O heedless man! this veil of flesh is naught; this nine-fold vault of brilliant heaven is naught. Then give thyself to joy in this disordered place [the world], for life is but an instant wed to it, and that is equally naught.
77.
Now bring me dancers, wine, and a houri with charming, ravishing features--if houris there be. Or find a beautiful brook within a green ravine, if such there be. Ask nothing better; think no more of Hell's hot penalties, for, verily, none is, nor any Paradise more fair than that I sing, if Paradise there be.
78.
Came an old man from out the tavern drunk, his prayer-rug on his shoulders and a bowl of wine in hand. I said to him: Aged man! what meaneth this? He answered me: Drink wine, my friend, for this world is naught but wind.
79.
A nightingale, inebriate [with love of the rose], within a garden saw the roses laughing with a cup of wine. To me he came and whispered in my ear, in tones appropriate to the circumstance: Be on thy guard, my friend; one cannot hold the life that slips away.
80.
Naught is thy body but a tent, Khayyam, thy soul is its inhabitant, and its last, long home annihilation is. When thy soul leaves the tent, the slaves arise and strike it ere they pitch it for the oncoming soul.
81.
Khayyam, who sewed the tents of philosophic lore, is suddenly engulfed within the crucible of grief, and there is burned. The shears of Fate have cut the thread of his existence; the Auctioneer of Life has sold him for a song.
82.
In springtime let me sit upon the edge of a broad field with one fair girl, and wine in plenty if wine is at hand. Though this may culpable be thought, I should be worse than any dog did I not dream of Paradise.
83.
Rose-colored wine in crystal cups delights. It charms when sipped to lutes' melodious airs or to the plaintive throbbing of the harp. The devotee who knows not of the joy that is in wine is charming [to himself] or when a thousand miles between us yawn.
84.
The time we pass in this world has no worth without the wine-cup and the wine. It also needs the swelling sound of Irak's flute. Incessant watching of things here below has told me that in pleasure and in joy alone are worth: the rest is naught.
85.
Be on thy guard, my friend, for soon thou wilt be separate from thy soul; thou then shalt go behind the curtain of God's secrecy. Drink, for thou knowest not whence thou here hast come; make haste, for thou art ignorant where thou shalt go.
86.
Since we must die, why do we live? Why agonize to reach a problematic bliss? Since, for some unknown cause, we may not here remain, why not concern ourselves about the future pilgrimage? Why disregard our fate?
87.
Occasion makes me sing the praise of wine when I surround myself with men and things I love. O Devotee! canst thou be happy here below knowing that wisdom is your Lord? Then know, at least, that wisdom is my slave.
88.
The world will ever count me as depraved. Natheless I am not guilty, Men of Holiness! Look on yourselves and question what you are. Ye say I contravene the Koran's law. Yet I have only known the sins of drunkenness, debauchery and leasing.
89.
Free yourselves from your own passions and insatiate greed and lo! you shall go out poor as a mendicant. Look, rather, unto what you are, whence you have come, and learn what you are doing and where bound.
90.
The universe is but a point in our poor round of life; the Djeihoun [Oxus] but a feeble trace of tears and blood; Hell but a spark of useless worry which we give ourselves, and Paradise an instant of repose, which here below we rarely catch.
91.
A slave in dire revolt am I: where is Thy will? Black with all sin my heart: where is Thy light and Thy control? If Thou giv'st Paradise to our obedience alone [to Thy laws], it is a debt of which Thou quit'st Thyself and in such case we need Thy pity and benevolence.
92.
I know not at all whether He who created me belongs to a delicious Paradise or a detestable Hell. [But I do know] that a cup of wine, a charming girl and a zither at the edge of a green field are three things which I enjoy at present, and that you will find them in the promise that is made you of a future Paradise.
93.
I drink wine, and those who are opposed to it come from the left and from the right to ask me to abstain from it, because, say they, wine is an enemy of religion. But, for that very reason I would drink it, now that I hold myself an adversary of faith, because we are permitted by God to drink the blood of an enemy.
94.
The light of the moon has cut the black robe of night: drink then of wine, for one finds not often moments so precious. Yes, abandon thyself to joy, for this same moon will shine over the surface of the earth a long time [after our day].
95.
Impute not to the wheel of the heavens all the good and all the bad which are in man, all the joys and sorrows which come to us by destiny; for this wheel, friend, is a thousand times more embarrassed than thou, in the path of love [divine].
96.
There is no shield which is proof against an arrow hurled by Destiny. Grandeur, money, gold all go for nothing. The more I consider the things of this world, the more I see that the only good is good, all else is nothing.
97.
A heart which does not contain in itself complete abstinence [from things here below] is to be pitied, for it is at all times the prey of regret. It is only the heart free from care that can be joyous; all that exists beyond this is but a subject of torment.
98.
He who has had the intelligence to sow joy in his heart has not lost a single day in sorrow; he has employed his faculties in seeking the will of God, or has procured repose for his soul by taking a cup of wine.
99.
When God fashioned the clay of my body, he knew what would be the result of my acts. It is not without His orders that I have committed the sins of which I am guilty; in that case, why should I burn in hell-fire at the last day?
100.
If thou hast drunk wine every consecutive day of the week, take care not to deprive thyself of it on Wednesday, for, according to our religion, there is no difference between this day and Saturday. Be an adorer of the All-Powerful and not an adorer of days.
101.
O my God! Thou art merciful, and mercy is kindness. Why then has the first sinner been thrown out of the terrestrial Paradise? If Thou pardonest me when I obey Thee, it is not mercy. Mercy is present only when Thou pardonest me as the sinner that I am.
102.
Leave knowledge and take the cup in thy hand. Disturb thyself not about Paradise or Hell, but seek rather the _Koocer_ [the celestial river of wine]. Sell thy silken turban to buy wine and have no more fear. Rid thyself of that head-dress and envelop thy head in a simple woolen band [emblem of Sufism].
103.
Tell me, friend, have I acquired riches in this world? No. Have I given myself up to time as it was slipping away? No. I am the torch of joy; but that torch once extinguished, I am nothing. I am the cup of Djem [the royal cup], but that cup once broken, I am no longer anything.
104.
Where are the dancers? Where is the wine? Quick! that I may do honor to the gourd! Happy the heart who remembers his morning cup! Oh! there are three things in this world which are dear to me: a head lost in wine, an amorous girl, and the noise of the dawn.
105.
Since life so soon slips away, what matters it whether it be sweet or bitter? Since the soul must pass through the lips, what matters whether it be at Nishapur or at Balkh? Drink then of wine, for after thee and me, the moon will long pass on from its last quarter to its first, and from the first to last.
106.
This caravan of life passes in curious guise! Be on thy guard, my friend, for it is joy that thus escapes! Disturb not thyself with the sorrow which to-morrow waits our friends, and bring me my cup quickly, for the night fast slips away!
107.
He who has made the foundations of the world, the wheel of the heavens, how He has crucified the heart of man with affliction! How many ruby-colored lips has He buried in this little globe of earth! How many locks of hair perfumed with musk has He hidden in the bosom of the dust!
108.
O careless men! be not duped by this world, since you know its pursuits. Throw not to the wind your precious lives; hasten to seek a friend [God], and quickly drink of wine.
109.
O my companions! pour me some wine and thus change my face, from yellow as amber, to the color of the ruby. When I am dead, lave me in wine, and of the wood of the vine make my coffin and bier.
110.
The day when the celestial war-horse of the golden stars was saddled, when the planet Jupiter and the Pleiades were created, from that day the Divan [Chief Justice] of destiny fixed our lot. In what respect, then, are we guilty, since such is the part that was made for us?
111.
Oh! what damage may the vessels filled to flowing do, and how incomplete are they who possess riches! The eyes of beautiful Turkish women are a feast to the heart, yet they are simple learners from the slaves who own them.
112.
It is necessary that our existence be effaced from the book of life, that we expire in the arms of death. O charming cupbearer, go, gaily bring me wine since my poor earth to earth must come.
113.
At this moment, when my heart is not yet deprived of life, it seems to me that there are few problems that I have not solved. However, when I call intelligence to my aid, when I examine myself with care, I perceive that my existence has slipped away and that I have still defined nothing.
114.
Those who adore the _seddjadeh_ [prayer-rug] are asses, since they throw themselves, with full consent, into the charge of devotees and hypocrites. What is most singular about them is that they, under a mantle of piety, preach Islamism and are, in reality, worse than idolaters.
115.
When the tree of my existence shall be cut down, when my members shall be dispersed, let them make pitchers of my dust and fill these pitchers with wine; then shall my dust be revived [through the wine contained in them].
116.
O Thou, God, before whom sin is without consequence, tell him who possesses intelligence to proclaim this important point: that in the eyes of a philosopher it is an absolute absurdity to make divine fore-knowledge in league with sin.
117.
In the first place, my being was given me without my consent, which makes my own existence a lasting problem to me. Then, we leave this world with regret, and without having accomplished the aim of our coming, of our stay, or our departure.
118.
When my sins come back to mind, the fire which then burned in my heart makes my boldness stream forth; for everywhere is it established that when a slave repents, a generous master pardons him.
119.
These potters who constantly plunge their fingers into the clay, who employ all their mind, all their intelligence, all their faculties to mould it, even to the crushing of it with their feet and striking with their hands, of what think they? It is the same clay as the human body that they are treating thus.
120.
Those who, through knowledge, are the cream of the world; who, with intelligence scan the heights of the heavens, they also, like the firmament, have their heads turned in their search for divine knowledge, and are taken with vertigo and dimness of sight.
121.
God has promised us wine in Paradise. In that case why should He prohibit it in this world? One day an Arab in a state of drunkenness cut the hams of Hamzah's camel with his sword. It is only for him that our Prophet makes wine illicit.
122.
Since at this moment there only remains to you the memory of pleasure passed away; since for a perfect friend you have only a cup of wine; finally, since that is all you own, rejoice at least in this possession and let the cup not slip from your hands.
123.
Oh! for the time when we shall be no more and the world shall still be here! There will remain no fame or trace of us. The world was not unfinished when we came; naught will be changed when we have gone from it.
124.
Those whose feet have trodden the world, who have run over it for the sake of appropriating the riches of the two hemispheres to themselves, they are not the ones, I believe, who have ever been able to explain the true state, the real situation of things here below.
125.
O regret! The capital [of life] has slipped from our hands. Alas! many hearts have been through death drowned in blood, and no one returns from the other world that I may ask him news of the travelers who have gone.
126.
These numerous great lords, so proud of their titles, are so gnawed by cares and sorrows that existence to them is a burden. And most ridiculous it is that they deign not to call by the name of men those who, unlike to them, are not slaves to their passions.
127.
This lofty Wheel, whose trade it is to tyrannize, has never loosed for man the knot of any difficulty. Wherever it has seen an ulcerated heart, there has it come to add wound unto wound.
128.
Alas! the period of adolescence reaches home. The springtime of our pleasures slips away! That bird of gaiety which is called _youth_, alas! I know not when it came nor when it flew away!
129.
In the midst of this whirlpool of the world, hasten to gather some fruit. Seat thyself upon the throne of gaiety and bring the cup to thy lips. God is indifferent both to creed and sin; enjoy then here below, what pleases thee.
130.
Do you see those two or three imbeciles who hold the world in their hands, and who, in their candid ignorance, believe themselves the wisest in the universe? Do not disturb yourself for, in their high content, they deem all heretics who are not asses [like themselves].
131.
Would that the tavern could always be animated by the presence of drinkers, that fire would reach the hem of the holy robe of devotees, that their monk's frock might be torn to tatters and their blue woolen garment be trampled under the feet of the drinkers.
132.
How long wilt thou be a dupe to colors and perfumes? When wilt thou cease to seek out good and bad? Thou mightest be the source of Zemzem, thou mightest even be the water of life since thou wouldst not know how to escape entering the bosom of the earth.
133.
Renounce not the drinking of wine if you have any, for a hundred repentances follow one such resolution. The roses scatter their blossoms, the nightingales fill the air with their song, and would it be reasonable to renounce drinking in a moment like this?
134.
As long as the friend [God] will pour for me the wine which rejoices my soul, as long as the heavens have not deposited a hundred kisses upon my head and feet, whatever they may do, when the moment comes, to induce me to renounce drinking, how can I renounce it, God not having ordered me to?
135.
Whoever has constancy will not renounce drinking wine, for wine has within itself the virtue of the water of life. If any one renounce it during the month of Ramazan, let him at least abstain from engagement in prayer.
136.
When I am dead, smooth to the level of the soil the dust of my tomb, that I may thus be an example to other men. Then, mix with wine the earth of my body and make of it--a cover for a wine-jar.
137.
O Khayyam! although the Wheel of the Heavens has, in setting up his tent, closed the door to discussions, [it is evident, nevertheless,] that the cupbearer of eternity [God] has produced, in the form of globules of wine in the cup of creation, a thousand other Khayyams like thee.
138.
Give thyself to gaiety, for sorrow will be infinite. The stars will continue movement in the firmament, and the bricks which will be made of thy body will serve to construct palaces for others.
139.
Pass joyously thy life, for many other travelers will file through this world; the soul will cry after the body from which it will be separated, and the head, the seat of the passions, will be trampled under the potter's feet.
140.
Happy the heart of him who has passed unknown, who has not been clothed in a robe of ceremony, nor in luxurious garments, nor in stuffs of great price, who, like the _simourg_, is lifted into the skies to the place of his delight as the owl sits among the ruins of this world.
141.
Drinkers alone know how to appreciate the language of the roses and of wine, and not the feeble in heart or the poor in spirit. Those who have no idea of what is occult, to them ignorance is pardonable, for drunkards alone can understand what belongs to such an order of of things.
142.
Once in the tavern, one can make his ablutions only with wine. There, when a name is soiled, it cannot be restored. Bring, then, some wine, since the veil of our shame is torn in such a manner that it cannot be repaired.
143.
Pierced with a vain hope, I have thrown to the wind a part of my existence, and that without having known here below a day of happiness. That which I fear now is that time will prevent me from seizing the opportunity to make amends for the past.
144.
Alas! my heart has not been able to find any remedy [for its grief], my soul has arrived at the edge of my lips [death], without having attained the object of its love. Alas! my life has passed in ignorance, and the enigma of this love has not been explained.
145.
In the regions of the soul, it is necessary to walk with discernment; upon the things of this world, it is well to be silent. While we have our eyes, our tongues, and our ears, we should be without eyes, without tongues, and without ears.
146.
In this world, he who commands a loaf of bread and who can cover his body with any garment whatsoever, he who is neither master nor servant, tell him to live content, for he has a sweet existence.
147.
One should not plant in his heart the tree of sadness. On the contrary, he should ever peruse the book of joy. One should drink wine, and follow the trend of his own heart, for behold, the length of time remaining to you in this world is quickly measured.
148.
Has Thy empire gained in splendor by my obeisance, O God? Or have my sins retrenched in any degree Thy immensity? Pardon, O God, and do not punish, for I know well that Thou punishest late and pardonest early.
149.
It would be troublesome if my hand, accustomed to seize the cup, took the Koran and depended upon Mohammedan diet. With you it is different; you are a dry devotee, while I am a depraved one, moist [through drink], and the only fire I know is kindled by wine.
150.
Upon earth, no one presses to his heart a charmer with cheeks of the tints of a rose without the time comes that he feels the sting of the thorn. See the comb: before it could caress the perfumed hair of the beauty, it had to be cut into many teeth.
151.
Would that I had constantly in my hand the juice of the vine! Would that my love for these beautiful idols, that are like houris, might never leave my heart! They say to me: God has ordered you to renounce these things. Oh! should He give me such a command, I would not obey it. Far be the thought!
152.
Behold, I must go, and life is saddened by my going; for, out of a hundred precious pearls but one have I pierced. Alas! thanks to the ignorance of men, a hundred thousand things of deepest import yet remain unheard.
153.
To-day the season smiles; 'tis neither hot nor cold. The clouds have washed away the dust which dimmed the roses; and nightingales seem whispering to the yellow flowers that wine is balm for all.
154.
The day when I shall know myself no more, and when they will speak of me as of a fable, then I desire [do I dare say it?] that my clay be made into a jar for wine and destined to service at the tavern.
155.
Drink thou of wine before thy name shall vanish from this world, for, when this nectar enters thy heart, sorrow disappears. Unbind strand by strand the hair of thy charming idol, before the jointure of thy frame itself is loosed.
156.
O idol! ere sorrow comes to assail thee, order rose-colored wine. Thou art not gold, O imbecile! to believe that after burial in the earth, you can be drawn from it again.
157.
This world has not derived any advantage from my coming here below. Its glory and its dignity are equally unaffected by my departure. My two ears have never heard any one say why I have come, or why I am forced to go again.
158.
All thy secrets are known to the wisdom of Heaven [God]· He knows them hair by hair and vein by vein. I admit that by power of hypocrisy you may be able to deceive men, but what will you do before Him who knows your misdeeds one by one in every detail?
159.
Wine gives wings to those attacked by melancholy; wine is a mole of beauty upon the cheek of intelligence, we have not drunk of it during the Ramazan which has passed, but now the eve of [the month of] Burak hath arrived and we shall make amends.
160.
Live in joy, for the time is coming when all the creatures that you see will disappear under the earth; drink, drink of wine, and never abandon yourself to the sorrow of this world. Those who come after you only too soon become a prey to it.
161.
There is not a night when my mind is not in a state of stupefaction. There is not one when my breast is not inundated with pearls that flow from my eyes. The disquiet which possesses me keeps the bowl of my head from filling itself with wine, can a bowl overturned ever be filled?
162.
When my nature has seemed disposed to fasting and prayer, I have a moment's hope that I am going to attain the aim of my desires; but alas! a breath of wind has sufficed to destroy the efficacy of my ablutions, and a mouthful of wine has annihilated my fast.
163.
All my being is attracted by the sight of beautiful, rose-colored faces; my hand is aye ready to seize a cup of wine. Oh, I wish to enjoy for its part what belongs to each of my members, ere these same members are lost in the Whole.
164.
A worldly love knows not how to produce reflection. It is like a fire half extinguished which no longer gives heat. A true love should know neither tranquillity, nor repose, nor nourishment, nor sleep for months and years, day nor night.
165.
How long wilt thou pass thy life in adoring thyself, and seeking the cause of annihilation of thy being? Drink wine, for a life that is followed by death is better spent in sleep or drunkenness.
166.
To-morrow I shall have surmounted the mountain which separates us, and with indescribable happiness take the cup in my hand. My mistress longs for me, the day is bright; if I do not hasten to enjoy myself in such a moment, when shall I find enjoyment?
167.
There are people who through outrageous presumption are sunk in pride; and others who abandon themselves to the houris of celestial palaces. When the curtain is raised, we shall see that they have fallen far, far, far, from Thee [O God]!
168.
We are assured that there is a Paradise for us peopled with houris, and that we shall find there limpid wine and honey. It must then be permitted us to love women and wine here below, for is not this our end and aim?
169.
They pretend that there exists a Paradise where there are houris, where the _Koocer_ flows, where there is limpid wine, honey and sugar. Oh! fill quickly a cup of wine and put it in my hand, for one present joy is worth more than a thousand promised for the future.
170.
Even a mountain would dance for joy if you soaked it in wine. Poor is the fool who scorns the cup. You dare order me to renounce the juice of the vine! Know then that wine is a soul which helps to bring man to perfection.
171.
From time to time my heart finds itself much straitened in its cage. Shameful is it to be mixed with water and clay. I have often thought of destroying this prison, but my foot would come in contact with a stone and slip on the stirrup of the Koran's law.
172.
They say that the moon of Ramazan [month of fasting] is about to appear and that wine must no longer be thought of. It is well; but let me during the remainder of Cheeban [the month preceding] drink such a quantity of it that I may remain drunk up to the day of the fast.
173.
Cease, if ye are my friends, all vain discourse, and, to relieve my mental pains pour out the wine. And when to dust my frame returns, the self-same dust collect and make it brick to stop some crevice in the tavern wall.
174.
The beverage of our existence is sometimes limpid, sometimes muddy. Our garments are at one time of coarse wool, at another of finest fabric. All this is insignificant to a clear mind; but is it insignificant to die?
175.
No one has penetrated the secrets of the Principle [First Cause]. No one has taken a step outside himself. I look about and see only insufficiency from pupil to master, insufficiency in all that the mother brings forth.
176.
Restrain thy envy of the things of this world if thou wishest to be happy; break the bonds which enchain thee to the good and the bad here below; live contented, for the periodic movement of the heavens takes its course, and this life will not be of long duration.
177.
No one has had access behind the curtain of destiny; no one has knowledge of the secrets of Providence. For seventy-two years I have reflected day and night, I have learned nothing anywhere, and the enigma remains unexplained.
178.
They say that at the last day there will be judgments, and that our dear Friend [God] will be in anger. But from pure goodness only goodness emanates. Be then without fear, for finally you will see that He is full of gentleness.
179.
Drink wine, since it is that which will put an end to the disquiet of thy heart; it will deliver thee from thy meditations upon the seventy-two sects of the globe. Do not abstain from this alchemy for, if thou drinkest but a _men_ [a measure] of it, it will destroy for thee a thousand infirmities.
180.
Wine has been prohibited, perhaps, but it is only prohibited according to the person who drinks it, according to the quantity drunk, and according to the individual with whom we drink it. These points once observed, who would drink it if not the wise?
181.
For myself, I should pour some wine into a cup that would contain a pint. I should be content with two cups; but first I should divorce myself thrice from religion and reason, and then espouse the daughter of the vine.
182.
Yes, I drink wine, and whoever like me is far-seeing will find that this act is insignificant in the eyes of the Divinity. From all eternity God has known that I would drink wine. If I did not drink it, His prescience would be pure ignorance.
183.
The drinker, if he is rich, ruins himself. The disorder of his drunkenness provokes scandal in the world. For this I should put an emerald in the bowl of my ruby pipe, effectually to blind the serpent of my grief.
184.
There are some ignorant beings who have never passed a night in quest of truth, who have never taken a step outside themselves, who show themselves clothed in the garments of great lords and who are pleased to slander those whose conduct is irreproachable.
185.
When the azure of dawn shows itself, have the sparkling cup in thine hand. They say that truth is bitter in the mouth of mortals. That is a plausible reason for wine being truth itself.
186.
This is the moment when the verdure begins to ornament the world, when, like the hand of Moses, the buds begin to show themselves upon the branches; when, revivified, as if by the breath of Jesus, the plants spring forth from the earth; when finally the clouds begin to ope their eyes and weep.
187.
Keep from the trouble and vexation of aiming to acquire white silver or yellow gold. Eat with thy friend, ere thy warm breath be cooled, for after thee come enemies who will eat thee.
188.
Each mouthful of wine which the cupbearer pours into the cup helps to extinguish the fire of anger in thy burning eyes. Has it not been said, O great God, that wine is an elixir which drives from the heart a hundred sorrows that oppress it?
189.
When the violet has tinted her cheeks, when the zephyr has made the roses bloom, then he who is wise in company with the fact will drink wine until he can dash the cup against a stone [showing emptiness].
190.
The devotee knows not how to appreciate as well as we Thy divine pity. A stranger can never know Thee as perfectly as a friend. [They pretend] that Thou hast said: If you commit sin, I will send you into Hell. Go now--tell that to one who knows Thee not.
191.
A cup of wine is worth the empire of the universe; the brick which covers the jar is worth a thousand lives. The napkin with which one wipes lips moistened with wine is indeed worth a thousand turbans.
192.
O Friends! meet together [after my death]. Once reunited, rejoice in being together and, when the cupbearer takes in his hand a cup of old wine, remember poor Khayyam and drink to his memory.
193.
Not a single time has the Wheel of Heaven been propitious to me, never for one instant has it allowed me to hear a sweet voice, not a day has it given me a second of happiness but that very day it has plunged me into an abyss of grief.
194.
A cup of wine is worth a hundred hearts, a hundred creeds, a mouthful of this juice divine is worth the Empire of China. What is there, truly, on the earth preferable to wine? It is a bitter that is a hundred times sweeter than life.
195.
The Wheel of Heaven only multiplies our griefs! It places nothing here below that it does not soon bear away. Oh! if those who have not yet come knew the suffering this world inflicts, they would guard themselves well from coming here.
196.
Drink, drink this wine which gives eternal life; drink, for it is the source of youthful joy; it burns like fire, but, like life's essence, drives away your care. Then drink!
197.
O Friend, to what good art thou preoccupied with _being_? Why trouble thus thy heart, thy soul with idle thoughts? Live happily, pass thy time joyously, for you were not asked your opinion about the making of things as they are.
198.
The inhabitants of the tomb are returned to earth in dust; the atoms [of which they are composed] are scattered here and there, separated one from the other. Alas! what is this drink in which the human race is soaked and which holds it thus in dizzy ignorance of all things, even to the day of doom?
199.
O heart! act as if all the good things of this world belonged to you; imagine that this house is provided with everything, that it is richly furnished, and live joyously in this domain of disorder. Realize that thou restest here for two or three days, and that thereafter thou shalt rise and go away.
200.
The dogmas of religion admit only that which places you under obligation to the Divinity. That morsel of bread that you have, refuse not to others; keep from speaking evil; render evil to no one, and it is I who promise you a future life: bring wine.
201.
Dragged through the rapid course of time, which accords its favors only to the least worthy, my life is passed in a gulf of grief and sorrow. In this garden of being, my heart is hard as is the green bud of a rose; and like a tulip, it is dipped in blood.
202.
What belongs to youth is wine, the limpid juice of the vine and the society of beauty; and since water once brought ruin to this world by annihilating it, it is our part to drown ourselves in wine, to pass our life in drunkenness complete.
203.
Bring wine from this ruby vessel and pour it into a simple crystal cup; bring that thing habitual and dear to every noble man. Since you know that all beings are but dust, and that a two-day tempest makes them disappear, bring wine.
204.
O Thou, the quest of whom holds all in dizziness and distress, the dervish and the rich are equally void of means of reaching Thee. Thy name is in the speech of all, but all are deaf; Thou art present to the eyes of all, but all are blind.
205.
In company with one dear friend, how pleasing to me is a cup of wine. When I become the prey of care, it is fitting that my eyes should be filled with tears. Oh! this abject world has nothing lasting for us, and best it is to dwell inebriate.
206.
Keep thyself from drinking wine in the company of a boorish, violent character, having no mind or self-control, for such a man knows only how to cause unpleasantness. For the time, thou wouldst have to undergo the disorder of his drunkenness, his vociferations, his folly. And the next day, his prayers for excuse and pardon would come to weary thy head.
207.
Since you only possess what God has given you, torment not yourself to obtain the object of your covetousness. Keep from burdening the heart too much, for the final drama consists in leaving all and passing beyond.
208.
O my soul! drink this limpid nectar which has not been stirred; drink it in memory of the charming idols which ravish the heart. Wine is the blood of the vine, my friend, and the vine says to thee: Drink of me, since I render it lawful to you.
209.
In the season of flowers, drink rose-colored wine; drink to the plaintive sounds of the lute, to the melodious noise of the harp. As for me, I drink and rejoice in it; may it be salutary to me! If you do not drink, why not be willing that I should? Go, then, and eat pebbles!
210.
Art thou sad? Take a piece of hasheesh as large as a grain of barley, or drink a small measure of rose-colored wine. Then you will become a Sufi. But, if you will not drink of this or partake of that, nothing remains for you but to eat pebbles; go, eat some pebbles!
211.
But yesterday, I saw a potter in a bazaar treading most vigorously the clay he was molding. The clay seemed to say to him: I also have been like thee; treat me, then, with less harshness.
212.
If thou drinkest wine, drink it with intelligent people, drink it in company with thy ravishing idols, with smiles upon their lips and their cheeks tinted with the colors of the tulip. Drink not too much or speak boastingly of it; make it not a refrain, but drink a little from time to time in quietude.
213.
Wine should be drunk in the company of slender creatures who ravish the heart with the color of their cheeks. Art thou bitten by the serpent of grief, friend--drink, then, of this antidote. I myself drink of it and plume myself on the strength of it; would that it might be propitious! If you drink it not, why not be willing that I should? Go, eat some earth.
214.
Here is the Dawn; arise, O beardless youth, and quickly fill this crystal cup with ruby wine, for [later], you could seek long time ere finding such a moment of existence as is lent us in this world of nothingness.
215.
'Twixt wine and Jemshid's throne, give me the wine; the bouquet of the cup is sweeter than the Virgin's heaven-sent fruits. The morning sigh of one inebriate the bygone night is more melodious than the longdrawn lamentations of Adhem or Bou-Saïd.
216.
O my heart! since the foundation, even, of the things of this world is only a fiction, why do you venture thus in an infinite gulf of sorrow? Trust yourself to destiny, endure the evil, for the lot which the heavenly brush has traced for you will not be effaced.
217.
Of all those who have taken the long road, who is there now returned of whom I may ask news? O friend! beware of putting any hope whatever in this sordid world, for, know well that thou here shalt ne'er return.
218.
Since each of these nights and each of these days cuts off a part of thy existence, allow not the nights or the days to cover thee with dust. Pass them gaily, for how long, alas! shalt thou be absent, while the nights and days will still be here!
219.
This wheel of heaven which tells its secrets to no man, has killed a thousand Mahmouds [Sultans] and a thousand Ayaz [favorites]; drink wine, for the life of none shall ever be restored. Alas! not one of all those who left the world can again return!
220.
O Thou who rulest the whole universe! knowest Thou what are the days when wine rejoices the soul? They are: Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday, all day long.
221.
O Being, exquisite in thy enticing and coquettish charm! be seated: rise no more and thus appease the fire of a thousand torments. Thou enjoinest me not to look upon Thee; but it is as if Thou shouldst order me to incline the cup and forbid me spilling its contents.
222.
Better to be with Thee in the tavern, and there tell Thee my secret thoughts, than to go without Thee and make a prayer in the mosque. Yea, O Creator of all that was and all that is! such is my faith, whether Thou burnest me, or accordest me Thy favor.
223.
Consort with honest and intelligent men. Flee a thousand miles away from the ignorant. If a man of mind give thee poison, drink it; if an ignorant one present thee an antidote, pour it upon the ground.
224.
The clouds are still spread out above the roses and seem to cover them as with a veil. The desire for wine is not yet satiated in my heart. Then go not to rest, it is not yet the hour. O my soul, drink of the wine; drink, for the sun is still upon the horizon.
225.
Like unto a sparrow-hawk, I am flying away from this world of mysteries, hoping to lift myself to a higher world; but, fallen, here below, and finding no one worthy to share my secret thoughts, I go out through the door by which I entered.
226.
Thou hast put in us an irresistible passion [which is equivalent to an order from Thee], and, on the other hand, forbiddest us to give way to it. Poor human beings are in extreme embarrassment between this order and this prohibition, for it is as if Thou commandest me to upset the cup but refrain from spilling the contents.
227.
They are gone, these transients, and no one of them has returned to tell the secrets concealed behind the curtain. O devotee! it is by humility that spiritual affairs take favorable turn and not by prayer, for, what is prayer without sincerity and humility?
228.
Throw dust upon the vault of heaven and drink some wine; seek out the fair, for where see you a subject for pardon, a subject for prayer, since, of all those who have gone away, no one has returned?
229.
Although on my necklace of duty I have never strung the pearl of submission, as is Thy due, although never in my heart have I swept the dust from Thy steps, I have never despaired reaching the sill of Thy throne of pity, for never have I importuned Thee with my troubles.
230.
Let us recommence the course of our pleasures and say the _tekbir_ [farewell] to the five prayers. Everywhere, where the flask is present, you will see, like the neck of the flask itself, our necks stretching out towards the cup.
231.
Here below, we are only the puppets with which the Wheel of Heaven is amused. This is a truth and not a metaphor. We are in fact the playthings upon this human checkerboard, which finally we leave to enter one by one the coffin of annihilation.
232.
You ask me what is this phantasmagoria of things here below. To tell you the whole truth regarding it would be too long: it is a fantastic image which comes out of a vast sea, and which re-enters, later, the same vast sea.
233.
To-day we are lost in love, we are in deep distress, and finally inebriate, within the temple of our idols render to the cult of wine its due. To-day, entirely separate from our being, we shall have attained the step of the eternal throne.
234.
My well-beloved [would that her life might last as long as my sorrows!] has commenced to be amiable to me again. She cast in my eyes a sweet and furtive look and disappeared, saying without doubt to herself: Do good and cast it on the waters.
235.
Here is the Dawn! Rise Thou, O Source of all Delight! Drink sweetly of the wine and let us listen to the harmonies of the harp, for the life of those who sleep will not be long, and of those who are no more, not one will e'er return.
236.
O Thou, who knowest the secrets hidden most deeply at the bottom of the heart of each, Thou who raisest with Thy hand all those who fall in distress, give me the power of renunciation and accept my excuses, O God!--Thou who givest this power to all, who acceptest the excuses of all!
237.
I saw on the walls of the city of Thous a bird hovering before the skull of Kai-Kawous. The bird said to the skull: Alas! what has become of the noise of thy glory and the sound of the clarion?
238.
Raise no question of the vicissitudes of this world, nor of affairs of the future. Consider what a prize we have in the present moment, and disturb not thyself with the past or question me about the future.
239.
Let not the fear of future things yellow thy cheeks; let not present affairs make thee tremble with fright; rejoice, in this world of annihilation, at the portion of pleasure which comes to you, and wait not for that which the kindness of heaven may withhold.
240.
If you will listen to me, I will give you some advice: [Here it is] For the love of God put not on the mantle of hypocrisy. Eternity is for all time, and this world is but an instant. Then sell not for an instant the empire of eternity.
241.
How long can I hold you by my ignorance? My own annihilation oppresses my heart. Straightway I gird my loins with the ephod of the priests. Do you know why? Because it is the fashion of the Musulman, and I am one.
242.
O Khayyam! when intoxicate, be happy; when seated near a beauty, joyous be. Since the end of things in this world is annihilation, pretend that you are not, but since you are, give yourself up to pleasure.
243.
Yesterday, I visited the workshop of a potter; there I saw two thousand pitchers, some speaking, others silent. Each one of these seemed to say to me: Where is the potter? Where is the buyer of pitchers? Where the seller?
244.
Yesterday, while passing drunk before an inn, I met an old man overcome with wine and carrying a gourd of wine upon his back. I said to him: O aged man! have you no fear of God? He answered me: Pity comes from Him; go, drink some wine.
245.
How long will lack of success in thy enterprises grieve thee? Torment is the portion of those who think of the future. Live then, in joy, grieve not thy heart with the cares of this world, and know that wine increases not at all the bitterness of pain.
246.
Wine, which the wise man knows how to appreciate, is for me the water of life and I its prophet am. It is balm for the heart, an elixir which fortifies the soul. Has God Himself not said: The benefits of the human race are found in wine.
247.
Although wine be prohibited, drink it without ceasing, drink it in the evening and in the morning, drink it to the noise of songs and to the sound of the harp. When you can, procure that which sparkles like the ruby, throw a drop on the earth and drink all the rest.
248.
Diversity of creed divides the human race into about seventy-two sects. Amongst all these dogmas, I have chosen that of Thy love. What signify these words: Impiety, Islamism, creed, sin? My true aim is to seek Thee. Far be from me all these vain, indifferent pretexts.
249.
Enumerate my good qualities one by one; my faults, pass by in tens. Pardon each sin committed for the love of God. Fan not the fire of hatred by the breath of passion, pardon, rather, in memory of the tomb of the Prophet of God [Mohammed].
250.
In truth, wine is a limpid spirit in the cup; in the body of the flask, it is a transparent soul. No annoying person is worthy of my society. It is only the cup of wine which can figure there, for that is at once a solid and a diaphanous body.
251.
O Wheel of Heaven! Thou art complete in Thy ingratitude. Thou keepest me constantly bare [naked] like a fish. The weaver's loom weaves clothes for human beings; more charitable is it than Thou, O Wheel of Heaven!
252.
O Khayyam! Time is ashamed of him who allows his heart to be saddened by vicissitudes below; drink, then, to the sound of the harp, drink some wine from the crystal, before the crystal broken be upon a stone.
253.
If the rose is not our portion, do not the thorns remain? If light divine does not reach us, is there not the fire [of hell]? If we have not the clerical mantle, or that of the temple, or the pontifical, do not the bells, the church, and the ephod remain to us?
254.
If the Wheel of Heaven refuses me peace, am I not ready for war? If I have not an honorable reputation, have I not shame for myself? Here is the cup full of wine the color of rubies; he who will not drink of it, has he not his head and a stone?
255.
See Dawn appears. Already has it rent the veil of night. Arise, then, and empty the morning cup. Why this sadness? Drink, O my heart! drink, for these dawns will succeed each other with face turned towards us, when we shall have ours turned towards the earth.
256.
All that this world contains are but images and flourishes of fiction. Ill-advised is he who does not comprehend his place in the number of these images. Repose, thou, friend, drink a cup of wine, give thyself up to joy and thus be delivered from all these vain figures, from these impossible reflections [which come to assail thy mind].
257.
When you are in the company of a beauty with cypress-like figure and a color fresher than the newly-culled rose, put not far from thee the flowers of the field, nor let the cup escape from thy hand; [do this] before the north-wind of death, like a gale which disperses the leaves of the roses, tears in tatters the envelope of thy being.
258.
How long these cries, these groans against the things of this world? Rise, rather, and pass gaily every instant. When the universe shall be re-dressed in green from end to end, drink wine in a ruby cup, full to the brim.
259.
Give not vain thoughts free access to thy mind. Drink wine throughout the year, and always cups filled to the brim. Pursue the daughter of the vine and aye rejoice, for it is better to enjoy the daughter without leave of law than know the mother with her full consent.
260.
My love is at the apogee of its flame. The beauty of the one who captivates my soul [the Divinity] is complete. My heart speaks, but my tongue remains mute, refusing to express my sentiments. Great God! Has one ever seen aught more strange? I am devoured by thirst, and before me flows a fresh and limpid draught!
261.
Take a cup of wine in thy hand, then mingle thy voice with that of the nightingale, for, if it were meet to drink this juice of the vine without accompaniment of harmonious sound, the wine itself would make no noise in slipping out of the flask.
262.
Guard thyself from ever despairing for a crime committed, and be mindful of the clemency of thy Creator, the pity of the Master; for, should'st thou die to-day, in a state of complete drunkenness, to-morrow he would pardon thy decaying dust for all.
263.
O Wheel of Heaven, thy circular course does not satisfy me. Deliver me from it, for I am unworthy of thy chain. If thy good pleasure consists in according thy favors only to the poor in mind, to idiots, I am neither intelligent enough or wise enough [to be confounded by it].
264.
O _mufti_ [grand judge] of the city! I am more a worker than art thou. Drunk as I am, I own more intelligence than thou; for thou, thou drinkest the blood of human beings and I that of the vine. Be just and tell me which is the more sanguinary of the two?
265.
That which is wisest is to seek joy in our hearts in a cup of wine; and not preoccupy ourselves too much with the present or the past; and, finally, were it only for an instant, to free from the shackles of reason that soul which has been loaned us and which groans in its prison.
266.
The moment I shall fly from death, when, like the dry leaves, the particles of my body shall detach themselves from the centers of life, oh, then! with what joy shall I pass across the universe, as through a sieve, before the mason comes to sift my own dust.
267.
That vault of heaven, under which we reel, we might, in thought, liken to a lantern. The universe is the lantern. The sun represents the light, and we, like the images with which the lantern is ornamented, dwell there in stupefaction.
268.
Thou hast formed me of earth and of water, what can I do? Whether I be wool or silk, it is Thou that hast woven, and what can I do? The good that I do, the evil that I am guilty of, were alike predestined by Thee; what can I do?
269.
O friend, come to me, and let us take no thought of to-day nor to-morrow, but consider our short instant of existence as spoils. To-morrow, when we shall have abandoned this old tent [the world], we shall be the companions of those who left it seven thousand years ago!
270.
Never for a moment be deprived of wine, for it is wine that gives reflection to intelligence, to the heart of man and to religion. If the devil had tasted it for one instant, he would have adored Adam and have made before him thousands of genuflections.
271.
Arise, dance, and we shall clap our hands. Drink to the presence of beauties with the languorous eyes of the narcissus. Happiness is not very great when one has emptied but a score of cups; it is strangely complete when one arrives at the sixtieth.
272.
I have shut upon myself the door of avarice, and am thus free from obligation to those who are men and those who do not merit the name. Since there exists but one friend [God] toward whom I can extend my hand, I am what I am, and that concerns only Him and me.
273.
I am constantly saddened by the motion of this Wheel of the Heavens. I am in revolt against my vile nature. I have neither enough knowledge to hide myself and not return to the world, nor intelligence enough to live there without preoccupying myself with it.
274.
How many people that I see upon the surface of the earth are plunged in sleep [superstition]! How many I perceive that are already buried in its depths! When I throw my eyes over this desert of Not-being, how many people I see who have not yet come--how many who have already departed!
275.
Thy pity being promised me, I have no fear of sin. With the provision that Thou possessest, I have no disquiet about the journey. Thy benevolence renders my visage white and of the black book I have no fear.
276.
Be not led to believe that I fear the world, or that I have fear of dying, or of seeing my soul go its way. Death being a truth, I have no fear of it. What I fear is that I have not lived well.
277.
How long shall we be slaves to reason and to every day? What matters it whether we remain a hundred years in this world, or whether we dwell here but a day? Go, bring some wine in a bowl before we are transformed into pitchers in the workshop of some potter.
278.
How long will you blame us, O ignorant man of God! We are the patrons of the tavern, we are constantly overcome with wine. You are given up entirely to your chaplet, to your hypocrisy, and your infernal machinations. We, cup in hand and always near the object of our love, live in accordance with our desires.
279.
Let us sell the diadem of Khan, the crown of Kai, let us sell it and buy the sound of a flute let us sell the turban and the silken cassock, yea, for a cup of wine let us sell the chaplet which in itself contains naught but hypocrisy.
280.
That day when the juice of the vine does not ferment in my head, the universe could offer me an antidote which would be a poison to me. Yea, sorrow over the things of this world is a poison, and its antidote is wine. I will take the antidote then that I may have no fear of the poison.
281.
How long shall we blush at the injustice of others? How long shall we burn in the fire of this insipid world? Arise, banish from thee the sorrow of the world, if thou art a man; to-day is a feast; come, drink rose-colored wine.
282.
I am in continual war with my passions, but what can I do? The memory of my deeds causes me a thousand regrets, but what can I do? I admit that in Thy clemency Thou mayest pardon my faults, but the shame of knowing that Thou knowest what I have done, that shame will remain, and what can I do?
283.
O my soul! we two form together the parallel of a compass. Although we have two points, we make but one body. Actually, we turn upon the same point and describe a circle, but the day will come finally, when these two points shall be united.
284.
Since this world is not a place of permanent sojourn for us, it would be an enormous error to deprive ourselves of wine and abstain from the favors of our well-beloved. Oh, peaceable man! how long these discussions upon the creation or upon the eternity of the world? When I no longer am, what will it matter to me whether it be ancient or modern.
285.
Although it may be through duty that I present myself at the mosque, it certainly is not for the purpose of making a prayer. One day I stole a _sedjaddeh_ [prayer-rug]. The _sedjaddeh_ is worn out; I have returned again, and still again.
286.
Be not cast down by the troubles which we call vicissitudes here below. Let us occupy ourselves only in drinking pure wine, limpid wine, the color of a rose. Wine, friend, is the blood of the world. The world is our murderer; how shall we resist drinking the blood of the heart of him who spills ours?
287.
For the love which I bring thee, I am ready to undergo all sorts of blame, and if I violate my vow, I submit to the penalty. Oh! had I to endure until the last day the torment that thou causest me, that space of time would still seem too short.
288.
We have arrived too late in this circle of being, and have descended below human dignity. Oh! since life is not passed in accordance with our vows, it is better that it should be finished, for we are glutted with it!
289.
Since the world is perishable, I would devise some scheme for it; I would think only of joy, or only of the limpid wine. They say to me: Would God might make thee renounce it! Nay, would that He might not give such command, for if He gave it, I would not obey!
290.
When, with bowed head, I have fallen at the feet of death; when this destroying angel shall have made me like a bird robbed of its plumage, then of my dust make nothing other than a flask, for the perfume of the wine that it contains might revive me for an instant.
291.
When I examine closely the things of this world, what I see is that human beings in general appropriate to themselves, without merit on their part, the good it contains. As for me, O God All-Powerful! I meet only the reverse of my desires in all that falls under my eyes!
292.
It is I who am the chief of habitual patrons of the tavern; it is I who am plunged in rebellion against the law, it is I who, during the long nights, soaked in pure wine, cry out to God the griefs of my heart imbrued with blood.
293.
How grow the nights without which we could not close our eyes, and before which a cruel fate comes first to sadden us! Arise, and let us breathe an instant ere the breath of the morning stirs, for, very long, alas! will this Dawn breathe when we no longer breathe!
294.
Come, see the Dawn, and, with a full cup of rose-colored wine in hand, let us breathe for an instant. As for honor, reputation, that fragile crystal, let us break it against a stone. Renounce insatiable desires, and stroke the silken tresses of the fair and list the harmonies of the harp.
295.
In this world, where each breath we breathe leads to a new sorrow, it is better never to breathe an instant without a cup of wine in hand. When the breath of Aurora makes itself felt, arise and, time after time, empty the cup, for [as I have told you] this Dawn will breathe for long, long years when we no longer breathe.
296.
Should I commit all the sins of the universe, still Thy pity, I dare believe, would extend its hand to me. Hast Thou not promised to put off the day when I should be a prey to my infirmities? [Accomplish Thy promise and for that] exact not a state more frightful than that in which Thou seest me at this moment.
297.
If I am drunk with old wine, ah, well! I am. If I am an infidel, fire worshipper or idolater, ah, well! that I am. Each group of individuals forms some idea on my account. But what matters it? I belong to myself and I am what I am.
298.
From the time since I am, I have not been for an instant without drunkenness. This night is that of _Kidr_ and I this night am drunk; my lips are glued to that of the cup and, leaning my breast against the jar, I have held the neck of the flask in my hand until day.
299.
I am constantly attracted by the sight of limpid wine, my ears are ever attentive to the melodious sounds of the flute and of the _rubab_ [viol]. Oh, if the potter make a pitcher of my dust, would that that pitcher might constantly be full of wine!
300.
I understand all that annihilation and being apparently mean; I know the foundation of lofty thought. Ah, well! may all this knowledge be annihilated in me if I recognize in man a higher state than that of drunkenness!
301.
I indeed drink wine, but I commit no disorder. I stretch out my hand, but it is only to seize the cup. Would you know why I am an adorer of wine? It is because I do not wish to imitate you and be an adorer of myself.
302.
Are you discreet enough for me to tell you in a few words what man has been from the beginning? A miserable creature, moulded in the clay of chagrin. He has, for a few years, eaten his morsel here below, and then has raised his foot and gone away.
303.
It is the rim of the wine-jar which we have chosen for our place of prayer; it is in making use of wine that we are rendered worthy of the name of man; it is in the tavern that we get back the time lost in the mosque.
304.
It is we who are the true aim of universal creation; it is we who, in the eyes of wisdom, are the essence of divine regard. The circle of this world is like a ring and, without doubt, we are the jeweled signet of it.
305.
Drunkenness has transported us from our own misery here below to untold joys; from our humble condition, it has raised our heads to the skies. Nevertheless, behold us finally freed from our thraldom to the body! Behold us returned again to the earth, whence we came!
306.
If I have eaten during the days of Ramazan, do not believe I did it through inadvertence. The fatiguing hardships of the fast have so turned about my days and nights [the one for the other] that I have always believed in eating the morning repast.
307.
We have constantly heads overcome with wine; the presence of wine alone animates our society. Then leave off thy counsel, O ignorant penitent! [you see that] we are the adorers of wine, and that the lips of the object of our love are turned to our desires.
308.
This is the season of roses. Oh! I would now give rein to one of my desires. I would commit an act which infringes on the law of the Koran. Yea, for some days, in company of the fair with velvet and bright tinted cheeks spreading rose-colored wine over the green turf, I would transform the plain into a field of tulips.
309.
When in this world joy seizes us, when it gives to our complexion the brilliant lustre of the courser of the firmament [the sun], then I love to be in a green prairie in the midst of beauties with velvet cheeks, and partake with them of this sweet green hasheesh ere going again myself under this earth covered with green sod.
310.
Never have we tasted in happiness a drop of water without the hand of grief appearing to present to us its bitter beverage. Never have we dipped a piece of bread in salt without the salt returning to re-open half-healed wounds of the heart.
311.
Take care, take good care of making noise in a tavern! Pass the time there, but avoid all agitation. Sell the turban, sell the book [the Koran] to buy wine. Finally, let us pass through the _medresseh_ [school of the mosques], but let us not stop there.
312.
Every day, at dawn, I go to the tavern. There I give myself to the company of _kalendar_ hypocrites. O Thou, who art the master of secrets most concealed, give me faith, if Thou wishest me to apply myself to prayer.
313.
To the cares of this world, let us not accord as much value, even, as to a grain of barley; oh! let us be happy! If we have something for breakfast, we may have nothing for dinner; oh! let us be happy! Although nothing well cooked comes to us from the kitchen, let us not address our troublesome prayers to any one; oh! let us be happy!
314.
Not a single day do I feel myself free from the troublesome bonds of this world; not for a single instant do I breathe contented with my being. I have long served an apprenticeship to human vicissitudes, and I have not yet become master, either in that which concerns this world, or in what has to do with the other.
315.
We, in one hand, take the Koran; with the other we seize the cup: sometimes you see us carried away with that which is lawful, sometimes with what is prohibited. We, then, beneath this azure vault, are not completely infidel, or absolutely Musulman.
316.
Present a salutation on my account to Mostapha, and afterward say to him with all the deference due: O Lord Hachemite! why, in accordance with the law of the Koran, is the sharp _doug_ [whey] lawful, yet pure wine prohibited?
317.
Present a salutation on my part to Khayyam, and then say to him: O Khayyam! you are an ignorant man. When have I said that wine was prohibited? It is lawful for intelligent men; it is prohibited only to the ignorant.
318.
O thou that lusteth night and day for the goods of this world, dost thou not reflect upon the terrible day? Take into consideration thy last breath, come back to self, and see how time deals with others.
319.
O thou who art the summing up of the universal creation, cease for an instant to occupy thyself with gain or loss; take a cup of wine from the hand of the etern cupbearer, and free thyself thus altogether from the cares of this world and from those of the other!
320.
If you know to what to cling upon this walk around a circle without end, you must recognize two classes of men: those who understand perfectly its good and its bad side, and those who have no notion either of themselves or of things here below.
321.
Render light to my heart the weight of the vicissitudes of this world. Conceal from mortals my reprehensible actions. Render me happy to-day, and to-morrow make me what thou deemest worthy of Thy pity.
322.
For him who makes account of human ills, joy, sorrow, pain are all identical. The good and the bad of this world must one day end. What matters it whether all be torment or pleasure for us?
323.
Now that the nightingale has made its voice heard, think no longer of anything, but seize the ruby cup of wine from the hand of the drinkers; arise, come, for the rose blossoms are breathing out joy; avenge thyself, avenge thyself for two or three days for the torments thou hast endured.
324.
Notice this cup made of clay; it is possessed of a soul! They say a jasmine produces the flowers of the Judas-tree. But what do I say? The shining purity of wine is a cause of my error? Oh, no [it is not wine], it is diaphanous water shot with a liquid fire.
325.
Arise, leave the cares of this world which are fleeting; be joyous, pass gaily this life of a moment, for if the favors of heaven had been constant to others, this turn of joy would not have come to you.
326.
Listen to me, O thou who hast not seen old friends [of experience]! Vex not thyself with this Wheel of Heaven which has neither surface nor foundation: content thyself with what thou hast and, as a peaceable spectator, observe here below the various games to which men are destined.
327.
Employ all thy efforts to be agreeable to drinkers, and follow the good counsel of Khayyam. O friend! demolish the bases of prayer and of fasting, drink wine, steal if you will, but do good.
328.
Justice is the soul of the universe, the universe is the body. The angels are the wit of the body, the heavens the elements, the creatures in it are the members; behold here the eternal unity. The rest is only trumpery.
329.
Yesterday evening, in the tavern, the object of my heart that ravishes my soul [God] presented me a cup with a ravishing air of sincerity and a desire to please me, inviting me to drink. No, said I to him, I will not drink. Drink, he answered me, for the love of my heart.
330.
Do you wish the universe to submit itself to your will? Occupy yourself without ceasing in fortifying your soul. Share my mood, which consists in drinking wine and never taking to myself the cares of things here below.
331.
The sages who have well considered this world of dust, this sojourn of inconstancy from one end to the other, see nothing in it agreeable but wine in ruby cups and beautiful countenances.
332.
Thanks to the iniquity of this Wheel of Heaven which resembles a mirror, thanks to the periodic motion of time which accords its favors only to the most abject, my cheeks, hollowed like a cup, are bathed in tears; but, like a flask, my heart is full of blood.
333.
Yesterday [before day], in company with a charming friend and a cup of rose-colored wine, I was seated on the border of a brook. Before me stood the cup, that shell, of which the pearl [contained in the cup] shed such a brilliant light that the herald of the sun, awaking with a start, announced the Dawn.
334.
Forget the day which has been cut off from thy existence; disturb not thyself about to-morrow, which has not yet come; rest not upon that which is or that which is no more; live happily one instant and throw not thy life to the winds.
335.
Art not ashamed to give thyself to corruption?--to neglect thus both what is commanded and what is forbidden? Even if you succeed in appropriating all the goods of the earth to yourself, what can you do with them except to abandon them in your turn?
336.
I have seen a man betake himself to sterile soil. He was neither a heretic nor a Musulman; he had neither riches nor religion, nor God, nor truth, nor law, nor certitude. Who in this world or in the other would have so much courage?
337.
One host of men is pondering upon belief, or on the faith; others are hovering between doubt and certainty. But suddenly behind the veil there's one will cry: O ignorant ones! the way that you seek is neither here nor there!
338.
There hangs in the heavens a bull called Parwin [Pleiades], and another bull is underneath the earth. To the eyes of intelligence or those who live in certainty, I show a herd of asses placed between two beeves.
339.
Some said to me: Drink less of wine. What reason have you for not giving it up? The reason that I give is first the face of my friend [God] and secondly the morning cup. Be just and tell me, Is it possible to give a more luminous reason?
340.
If I possessed in the heavens the power which God exercises there, I would destroy the people of this world, and others I would make in my own way, so that man, freed [from the bonds of superstition], could attain here below the desires of his heart.
341.
My poor heart, full of grief and folly, has not been able to free itself from drunkenness where passion for my well-beloved has plunged it. Oh! the day when the wine of this love was distributed, my portion was, without doubt, drawn from the blood of my heart!
342.
To drink wine and seek beautiful faces is wiser than to practise hypocrisy and apparent devotion. It is evident that if there exist a Hell for lovers and drinkers, no one would wish for Paradise.
343.
Scorn the words of coquettish women, but accept limpid wine from the hand of those whose mien is irreproachable. You know that all those who have made their appearance in this world are partly of one kind and partly of the other, and it is not given to any to see a single one that may come back.
344.
It is not necessary to soften and disgrace a joyous heart by sorrow, to break under the stones of torment our moments of delight. As no one is able to tell what is to be, what is necessary is some wine, a beloved mistress [the Divinity], and repose according to our desires.
345.
Yes, it is beautiful to enjoy good fame; it is shameful to complain of the injustice of heaven; it is better to become drunk with the juice of the grape, than to be puffed up with false devotion.
346.
O God! be pitiful to my poor imprisoned heart; show pity to my bosom, susceptible to so much sorrow; pardon my feet which lead me to the tavern; pardon my hand which seizes the cup!
347.
O God! deliver me from calculating, more or less, upon the things of this world; make me preoccupied with Thee, and free me from myself. While I have my sound reason good and bad are known to me; render me drunk and free me from this knowledge of good and bad.
348.
This Wheel of Heaven runs after my death and thine, my friend· it conspires against my soul and thine. Come, seat thyself upon the turf, for, indeed, small time remains to us before new turf shall germinate from my dust and from thine.
349.
When we shall have lost my soul and thine, they will place bricks upon thy tomb and mine. Then, in order to cover other tombs with bricks, they will throw my dust and thine into the kiln of the brick-maker.
350.
In this castle which by its splendor rivals the heavens, this castle to which sovereigns succeeded with delight, we have seen a turtledove seated on the ruined battlements crying: Kou, kou, kou, kou [Where? Where?].
351.
What advantage has our coming into this world produced? What advantage will result from our departure? What remains to us of the heap of hopes that we have conceived. Where is the smoke of all the pure men who under the celestial fire have been consumed and become dust?
352.
O Thou whose lips secrete the water of life, permit not those of the cup to come and kiss them! [Oh, if Thou shouldst permit it], may I lose the name of man if I am not soaked in the blood of the flask, for what is it, this cup, to dare to touch its lips to Thine?
353.
I am such as Thy power has made me. I have lived a hundred years filled with Thy benevolence and benefits. I would like still a hundred years to commit sin and to see if the sum of my faults outweighed Thy pity.
354.
Now take thy cup, carry away the gourd, O Charm of my Heart! and go, explore the plains, the borders of the brooks, for indeed idols, like to the moon in the light of their beautiful countenances, have a hundred times been transformed into cups, a hundred times have they become gourds.
355.
It is we who buy old wine and new wine, and it is we who sell the world for two grains of barley. Know where you will go after death? Bring me some wine and go where you will.
356.
Who is the man who here below has not committed sin; can you say? Had he not committed it, could he have lived, can you tell? If, because I do evil, you punish me for evil, what then is the difference between you and me, can you say?
357.
Oh! where is that one whose lips are of rubies, where that precious stone of Bedekhchan? Where is that wine full of perfume which gives repose to the soul? They say that the religion of Islam prohibits it; drink, friend, and have no fear, for where do you see Islam?
358.
Best is it to abstain from all that is not joyful; and best it is to receive the cup from the hands of odalisques shut up in the palaces of the princes; but best of all is drunkenness, indifference to the Kalendars, forgetfulness of self. A mouthful of wine, finally, is worth more than all that exists in the space between Mah and Mahi.
359.
For thee, that which is best is to flee from the seeking of knowledge and devotion; to finger the tresses of thy ravishing friend; to pour into the cup the blood of the vine ere time has spilled thine own.
360.
O friend! be in repose amidst human vicissitudes; disturb not thyself in vain because of the march of time. When the envelope of thy being shall be torn in tatters, what matters what thou hast done, what thou hast said, or how defiled thou mayest be?
361.
O thou who hast not done good, but who hast done evil, and who hast afterward sought refuge in the Divinity, guard thyself from relying upon pardon; for he who has done nothing resembles no more him who has sinned than he who has sinned resembles him who has done nothing!
362.
Count upon life not longer than the sixtieth year. Place thy foot in no direction without being overcome with wine. As long as thy skull hath not been made a pitcher, go always on thy way, nor take the wine-gourd from thy shoulder or the wine-cup from thy hand.
363.
This firmament is a porringer overturned upon our heads. Wise men, thereat, humble and unpresumptuous are. But see the friendship which obtains between the cup and the flask. Lip against lip are they, and twixt them ever flows the blood.
364.
I have swept the sill of the tavern with my hair. Yes, I have given up reflecting upon the good and the bad in this world and the next. I saw them, like two bowls, rolling in a ditch, when I was sleeping overcome with wine, and I no more occupied myself with them than if I had seen a grain of barley rolling along.
365.
The drop of water began to weep on being separated from the ocean. The ocean began to laugh, saying to it: It is we who are all; in truth, there is no other God beside us, and if we are separated, it is only by a simple point almost invisible.
366.
How long shall I trouble myself with the care of knowing whether I possess or do not possess--if I ought or ought not to pass life gaily? Fill ever the cup of wine, O cupbearer! for I do not know whether I shall breathe out this breath that I am actually breathing or not.
367.
Become not a prey to sorrow in this world of iniquity; recall not to thy soul the memory of those who are no longer here; give up thy heart only to a friend with sweet lips and fairy-like in form and never be deprived of wine, or throw life to the winds.
368.
How long will you speak to me of the mosque, of prayer and fasting? Go rather to the tavern and intoxicate yourself, and even for that ask alms. O Khayyam! drink wine, drink; for this earth of which thou art composed will be made into cups, bowls, and pitchers.
369.
So in this palace of brief being, you ought, O wise man, to give yourself up to rose-colored wine. Then each atom of your dust that the wind carries away will fall on the sill of the tavern, all saturate with wine.
370.
Note how the zephyrs have made the roses bloom! Note how their fragrant beauty glads the nightingale! Go, then, repose in the shadow of these flowers, for very speedily they depart from the earth and very often ne'er return again.
371.
Behold us re-united in the midst of lovers; behold us freed from the pain which time inflicts; having emptied the cup of His love, behold us all free, all tranquil, all o'ercome with wine.
372.
Suppose that you have lived in this world in accordance with your desires; ah, well! after that? Think to yourself that the end of your days has arrived; ah, well! after that? Admitting that you have lived for a hundred years surrounded by all that your heart could desire, imagine in your turn, that you have another hundred years to live; ah, well! after that?
373.
Do you know how the cypress and the lily have acquired the name for freedom which they enjoy among men? It is because one has ten tongues but remains mute, and the other possesses a hundred hands and keeps them all empty.
374.
O cupbearer! put into my hand some of that delicious wine, some of that juice attractive as a charming idol, some of that nectar, in short, which like a chain whose links, turning and returning upon each other, hold fools and sages alike in sweet captivity.
375.
O regret! that life should be passed in pure loss! How lawless all our eating and how defiled our bodies! I have the blame, O God! of not having done what Thou hast commanded. What will come to me for having done what Thou hast not commanded?
376.
Fret not thyself on account of the inconstancy of this world; seek wine and draw near to thy caressing mistress, for, thou seest that he whom his mother brought forth to-day to-morrow disappears from the earth--to-morrow returns to annihilation.
377.
I can renounce all else, but wine never; for I have the means of making amends for all else, but of wine, never. O God! could one like me become a Musulman and renounce old wine? Never.
378.
We are all lovers, all drunkards, all adorers of wine. We are all united in the tavern, having banished far from us all that is good, all that is evil, all reflection and revery. Oh! expect not intelligence or reason of us, for we are all overcome with wine.
379.
It is we who have confidence in the divine goodness, who have shaken off the ideas of obedience and sin; for where Thy benevolence exists, O God, he who has done nothing is equal to him who has done something.
380.
Thou hast imprinted on our being, O God, such singular phantasma of inconsequence, and hast made to rise such strange phenomena. Myself cannot be better than I am, for Thou hast taken me as I am from out creation's crucible.
381.
We have violated all the vows that we have made; we have closed upon us the door of what is called good and what is called bad. Then blame me not if you see me committing senseless deeds, for we are drunk with the wine of love, and all are drunk as we.
382.
A mouthful of old wine is of more worth than a new empire. The wise man will reject all that is not wine. A cup of this nectar is a hundred times preferable to the kingdom of Feridoun. The lid which covers the wine-jar is more precious than the diadem of Kai-Khosrou.
383.
O my heart! thou canst not penetrate the enigmatical secrets of the heavens; thou canst never reach the culminating point to which intrepid sages have attained. Be content, then, to organize a Paradise here below, in making daily use of cup and wine, for wilt thou ever reach that future Paradise? Thou never wilt.
384.
Those who are gone before us, O cupbearer! are imbedded in the dust of pride. Go, drink wine; go, listen to the truth that I tell you: All those who have gone ahead are but as the wind; know it well, O cupbearer!
385.
From afar has appeared a filthy shape. It is said that its body was covered with a shirt made of the smoke of Hell. It was neither a man nor a woman. It has broken our flask and spilled upon the earth the ruby wine it contained, glorifying itself at having done a deed worthy of a man.
386.
O my heart! when thou art admitted to sit at the banquet of this idol [the Divinity], it is after thou hast gone out of thyself in order to re-enter thyself again. When thou hast tasted a mouthful of the wine of annihilation, thou art entirely separate from those that are and from those that are no more.
387.
Yes, I have found myself in close acquaintance with wine, with drunkenness. But why does the world blame me for it? Oh! would to God that all which is illegal might produce drunkenness! For then never here below should I have seen a shadow of sound reason.
388.
Thou hast broken my pitcher of wine, my God! Thou hast shut upon me the portals of joy, my God! Thou hast poured upon earth my limpid wine, my God! Oh! [would that my mouth were filled with earth!] couldst Thou have been drunk, my God?
389.
O thou who art the result of the four [elements] and the seven [heavens], I see you in perplexity amongst these four and seven. Drink wine, for, as I have said to you more than four times, you will return no more; once departed, you are gone indeed.
390.
On one hand, Thou hast raised a hundred ambushes about us; on the other, Thou sayest to us: If ye put foot there, ye shall be caught by death. It is Thou who spreadest snares, and whoever falls there, Thou bringest to a stand! Thou givest him to death and callest him rebel!
391.
O Thou whose mysterious essence is impenetrable to intelligence, Thou who carest no more for our obedience than our faults, I am drunk with sin, but the confidence that I have in Thee renders it right for me. Know Thou, that I count upon Thy pity.
392.
If this world's things were only based on show, oh! then each day would be a feast. Oh! were it not for these vain threats, each could attain below the aim of his desires, without a fear.
393.
O Wheel of Heaven! thou fillest constantly my heart with woe. Thou killest in me the germ of joy, with water ladening the air which, would breathe, and changest into mud the water that I drink.
394.
O my heart! if thou free thyself from the grief inherent in matter, thou shalt become a soul in all its purity; thou shalt mount to the heavens, thy residence shall be the firmament. Oh! how thou shouldst suffer from shame at inhabiting the earth!
395.
O potter! be attentive, if thou possessest sound reason! How long wilt thou abase man in moulding his clay? It is the finger of Feridoun, the hand of Kai-Khosrou which you thus put upon your wheel.
396.
O rose! thou art the face of some young ravishing fair! O wine! thou art the ruby whose brightness joys my soul! O fateful fortune! each instant thou appearest more strange to me, and nevertheless I seem to know thee.
397.
From the cookery of this world, thou only absorbest the smoke. How long, plunged in the search for being and annihilation, wilt thou be the prey of sorrow? This world contains only loss for those who attach themselves to it. Now disregard this loss, and all for thee will benefit become.
398.
As for us, let us not try to torment men in their sleep; let us refrain from making them utter at midnight the lamentable cry _O my God! O my God!_ [as others do]. Rest not upon riches or beauty, for the one will take wings in the night, and the other, in the night also, will be ravished.
399.
If from the commencement Thou hadst wished to make me known to _myself_, why later, hast Thou separated me from this _myself_? If from the first day Thy intention was to abandon me, why hast Thou thrown me, all amazed, into the midst of the world?
400.
Oh! would to God that there existed some place of repose--that the road we follow had some settled end! Would God that, after a hundred thousand years, we could conceive the hope of one new birth of heart upon the earth as the green turf is born again!
401.
While I was drawing a horoscope in the book of love, suddenly, from the burning heart of a wise man came these words. Happy is he who entertains in his dwelling a friend as beautiful as the moon, and who has in prospect a night as long as a year!
402.
The constant sequence of springtime and autumn makes the leaves of our existence disappear. Drink wine, my friend, for sages have well said that grief in this world is a poison and its antidote is wine.
403.
O my heart! drink of wine, drink of it in a garden and enjoy the presence of thy friend [the Divinity]; renounce hypocrisy and show. Is it the doctrine of Ahmed you follow? In that case, draw from the fountain-head a cup of wine into the bowl which Ali, in his round of cupbearing, shall serve.
404.
But yesterday, at eve, I broke a china cup against a stone. I was drunk when committing this senseless act. This cup seemed to say to me: «I have been like thee; thou wilt, in thy turn, be like me.»
405.
The flowers are in blossom, O cupbearer! bring wine. Leave thy acts of worship, O cupbearer! Ere the angel of death put a watch upon us, come, and with a cup of ruby wine in hand, let us rejoice while yet there are some days with the sweet presence of the friend [the Divinity].
406.
Arise, get off thy bed, O cupbearer! and pour the limpid wine. Before they yet make pitchers of our skulls, pour out some wine from pitcher into bowl, O cupbearer!
407.
This hypocrisy [which I everywhere see], O cupbearer! crushes my heart with weariness. Arise, and gaily bring me wine, O cupbearer! and to procure it, put in pawn the prayer-rug and the turban. Perhaps my arguments will then rest upon a solid basis.
408.
Examine thyself, if thou art intelligent, and observe what thou hast brought in the beginning and what thou wilt carry away at the end. Thou sayest that thou dost not drink because one must die. Whether thou drinkest friend, or dost not drink, thou needs must die.
409.
Open the door, for it is only Thou who canst open it; show me the way, for it is only Thou who canst show a way of safety. I will give my hand to none of those who wish to lead me, for all are perishable, and only Thou eternal.
410.
All that you tell me emanates from hatred [O mullah]! You never cease to treat me as an atheist, a man without religion. I am convinced of that which I am, and I avow it; and should I be right, is it for you to lecture me thus?
411.
Resign yourself to grief if you would find a remedy, and do not complain of your suffering if you would cure it. In poverty, be thankful to Providence, if you wish some day to have riches for your portion.
412.
I have seen a wise man in the house of a drunken man at evening. I asked him if he could give me some news of the absent. He answered me: Drink wine, friend, for many like you have gone out but have never returned.
413.
I seek a flask of ruby wine, a book of verse, a momentary peace in life and bread enough. And if with these, my friend, in some lone spot with thee I could repose, 'twould be a happiness above a Sultan's regal joy.
414.
How long these arguments upon the five and the four, O cupbearer? In comprehending one, O cupbearer! it is difficult to grasp a hundred thousand. We are all of earth, O cupbearer! strike the harp: we are all as the wind, bring the wine, O cupbearer!
415.
How long will you speak of Yassin and Berat, O cupbearer? Give me a treatise upon the tavern, O cupbearer! The day that it is closed will be for me the night of Berat, O cupbearer!
416.
While you have in your body bones, veins, and nerves, place not your foot outside the limits of your destiny. Yield never to your enemy, be that enemy Rustum, son of Zal; accept nothing which puts you under obligation to a friend, be that friend Hatim-tai.
417.
You may indeed be taken with lips tinted with the color of the ruby, you may indeed appreciate the cup of wine, you may indeed call for the noise of the drum, the sound of the harp and of the flute, but these are only trifles. God is my witness, while you do not break the bonds of this dark world, you nothing are.
418.
Bestir yourself, since you are under this tyrannic vault; drink wine, since you are in this world, a seat of woe. And, from beginning to the end, being only earth, act like a man who is upon the earth, and not as if thou wert beneath the earth.
419.
Since you all secrets know, my friend, why be a prey to so many vain torments? Suppose things do not fall in touch with your desires, you can at least be gay while you still breathe.
420.
Everywhere I cast my eyes I believe I see the sod of Paradise and the brook of Koocer. They say the field outside of Hell is transformed into a celestial sojourn. Rest then in that celestial place near some celestial fair.
421.
Follow no other way than that which the Kalendar follows; seek no other place than the tavern; occupy yourself only with wine, song and the friend [the Divinity]; place in your hand a cup of wine, upon your back a gourd; drink, O dear object of my heart! drink and speak not of foolish things.
422.
Do you wish life to rest upon a rock? Do you wish life for some time free to be from grief? Dwell for one instant without drinking wine, then at each breath you'll find a new attraction in existence.
423.
In this world, this house of pilferers, it is useless to count upon a friend. Listen to the counsel I give you, and confide it to no one. Bear your suffering and seek no remedy here, be happy in your sorrows and try not to divide them with another.
424.
There are two things which are the foundation of wisdom and which ought to be put among the number of the most important unproclaimed revelations. Not to eat of anything which eats of other things, and to keep oneself unsullied by all that lives.
425.
How is it that at the commencement of springtime the verjuice of the vine is sharp? And afterwards, how does it become so sweet? And then how do we find the wine so bitter? If one makes viols of a piece of wood by means of a curvèd knife, who would say on seeing it that a flute could be fashioned by the same means?
426.
Know you why, at the break of day, the early-rising cock makes its voice heard each moment? It is to tell you, through the mirror of the morning, that one more night has slipped away from your existence, and that you are still in ignorance.
427.
Give me some of this ruby wine, tinted like the tulip. Pour from the neck of the flask the pure blood it contains, for, to-day I can see, outside this cup of wine, no friend whose inner man is pure.
428.
Pour me, O cupbearer! some wine colored like the flowers of the Judas-tree, pour, O cupbearer! for grief comes to oppress my soul; pour for me the nectar, for it is possible that in making me a stranger to myself, it will free me one instant from the vicissitudes of this world.
429.
Thy cup, O my cupbearer! contains liquid rubies; give some to my soul, O cupbearer! Let it reflect that precious stone; put in my hand, O cupbearer, this incomparable cup, for through this I will give new life unto my soul.
430.
In philosophy, if you are an Aristotle or a Bouzourdj-mehr; in power, if you are some Roman emperor or some potentate of China, drink ever, drink wine from the cup of Djem, for the end of all is the tomb. Oh! though you are Bahram himself, the coffin is your last sojourn.
431.
I entered the studio of a potter. I watched him work at his wheel, actively occupied in moulding the necks and handles of pitchers, forming some of them like the heads of kings, others like the feet of beggars.
432.
Go, choose bliss, if you are wise, and finally you may be able to drink wine from the hand of the drinkers of eternity, but you are one of the ignorant and joy is not in you, it is not given to every ignorant one to taste the sweets that ignorance gives.
433.
O idol, while you are on your journey through this world, draw from the fountain-head into the pitcher, draw this salutary wine and, ere the potter makes another pitcher of my dust and thine, fill out a cup, drink it and pass me one.
434.
Be attentive, friend, and while thou still art able, lighten the grief of a loving heart, for this kingdom of grace that now thou hast will not last always, but, like so many others thou shalt unexpectedly be called.
435.
Before you are made drunk by the cup of death, before the revolutions of time are full behind you, endeavor to make a foundation here below, for you will profit nothing by going away empty-handed.
436.
It is Thou who disposest of the lot of the living and of the dead. It is Thou who governest this unruly Wheel of the Heavens. Although I am bad, I am only Thy slave, Thou art my master. Who then is guilty here below? Art Thou not the Creator of all?
437.
O my King! how can such a man as I, finding himself in the season of roses, in the midst of joyous society, surrounded by wine, by dancers, remain a passive spectator? Oh! to find oneself in a garden with a flask of wine and a lute are things preferable to Paradise with its houris and its Koocer.
438.
See the clearness of the light, the sparkle of the wine and of the moon, O cupbearer! See the ravishing beauty of the rose's face, like a shining ruby, O cupbearer! Recall nothing of what belongs to the earth to this heart that burns like fire, throw it not to the wind, but bring wine, O cupbearer!
439.
O limpid wine, wine full of sheen! Fool that I am, I'd drink thee in such quantity, that all perceiving me from far would my identity confound with thine, and say to me: O master wine! tell me, whence do you come?
440.
Be welcome, Thou, who art the repose of my soul! Thou art here, and nevertheless I cannot believe my eyes. Oh! for the love of God, and not for the love of my heart, drink, drink of wine, drink to the point when I can doubt that it is Thou.
441.
A Sheikh said to a prostitute: You are in wine. Each instant you are taken in the toils of law. She answered him: O Sheikh, I am all that you say; but are you what you seem to be?
442.
[I have already said] the entire world, like a bowl, was rolling in a hollow which, when I slept dead drunk, I noticed no more than if I saw a grain of barley rolling along. Yesterday, at evening, I put myself in pawn at the tavern for a cup of wine. The wine merchant never ceased to say: O excellent security that here I hold.
443.
Sometimes Thou art concealed, showing Thyself to none; sometimes Thou revealest Thyself in all things created. It is for Thyself, without doubt, and for Thy pleasure that Thou hast produced these marvellous effects, for Thou art at once the maker of the spectacle we see and Thine own beholder.
444.
Should you come to people the whole earth, that action would not make a saddened soul rejoice. It would be more to thy advantage to enslave a free man, through thy gentleness, than to give freedom to a thousand slaves.
445.
They tell you not to drink, that otherwise you shall become a prey to torment, and that in the day of reckoning you will burn as fire. That may be, but the day in which wine makes you joyous is more precious than the goods of this world and those of the next.
446.
If your own satisfaction consists in casting grief into a heart free from all care, you could, friend, make mourning with your wisdom during your whole life. Go, be unhappy, then, for you are a person strangely ignorant.
447.
Each time you can procure two _mens_ of wine, drink them, in every circumstance, in all society wherever you may be; for he who does is freed from scornful looks or gestures of disdain.
448.
With a loaf of wheaten bread, two _mens_ of wine and meat in plenty, and seated in some desert spot with some young beauty decked with cheeks tinted with the tulip's blush, man hath a joy not given to any Sultan to procure.
449.
If in a city you acquire renown, you are thought to be the most wicked of men; if you retire into a corner, they regard you as a conspirator. What then is best, were you Elias or Saint Jude, is to live in the way of knowing none, and being known by none.
450.
If I were free and were allowed to use my will, if I were free from the torments of destiny and unembarrassed by any sentiment of the good and bad in this world where disorder resides, oh! I would prefer not to have lived here, not to have existed, than to be forced to go away!
451.
Drink wine, my friend, for see it makes the perspiration flow upon the cheeks of the beauties of Rhei, the most beautiful creatures in the world! Oh! how long shall I repeat it to you? Yes, I have broken the bonds of all my vows. Is it not better to break the bonds of a thousand vows than to break a pitcher of wine?
452.
We have some wine, O cupbearer! Let us rejoice in the presence of the well-beloved [the Divinity] and in the noise of the morning. Expect not on our part the renunciation of Nessouh, O cupbearer! How long shall I speak to you of the story of Noe, O cupbearer? Bring, bring me happily the repose of my soul [the wine], O cupbearer!
453.
I see neither the means of joining myself to Thee, nor the possibility of living for the space of a breath separated from Thee. I have not the courage to drive out the torments I endure. Oh! how difficult my plight, how strange my grief, how exquisite my pain!
454.
Now is the time to drink the morning wine; the noise makes itself heard, O cupbearer! Now we are ready, O cupbearer! here is the wine, behold the tavern. Could a moment like this be for prayer? Silence, O cupbearer! Leave thy discourse upon tradition and upon devotion; drink, O cupbearer!
455.
Here is the noise of the morning, O idol, whose coming brings happiness! Chant the refrain and bring the wine; for [you know it], the constant sequence of these months of Tir and Di have overturned upon the earth a thousand potentates like Djem, a hundred thousand like to Kai.
456.
Guard thyself from being coarse in the eyes of all drinkers, guard thyself from acquiring a bad reputation before the sages, and drink wine; for, whether you drink or not, if you belong to the fire of Hell, you would not know how to enter Paradise.
457.
I wish that God would reconstruct the world, I wish that He would actually reconstruct it and that I might see Him at the work. I wish that He would blot my name from the register of life, or that out of His mysterious treasure, He would swell the joys of my existence.
458.
O God! open to me the door of Thy benefits. Make me come to my fortune finally, that I may not be beholden to Thy creatures. Oh! render me drunk with wine, to the point where, freed from all knowledge, the torments of my head may disappear.
459.
O thou who hast been burned and burned again, and now deservest life anew! thou who art worthy only of adding fuel to the fire of Hell! how long wilt thou pray the Divinity to pardon Omar? What relation exists between thee and God? What audacity drives thee to ask Him to exercise His pity?
460.
As for me, without limpid wine I cannot live; my body is a burden which I cannot carry without drinking of the juice of the vine. Oh! might I be the slave of that delicious moment when the cupbearer said to me: Another cup! and that I had no longer strength to take it!
461.
There remains to me still a breath of life, thanks to the care of the cupbearer. But discord reigns still among men. I know that there only remains to me about a _men_ of wine from last evening, but I am ignorant of the space of time that is still left me to live.
462.
Take a man who possesses bread sufficient to live upon for two days, who can draw a drop of fresh water into a cracked pitcher, why should such a man be commanded by another who is of no more worth, or why should he serve one who should be his equal?
463.
Since the day when Venus and the moon appeared in the sky, no one has seen anything here below preferable to ruby wine. I am truly astonished at the wine-merchants, for how can they buy anything superior to that which they sell?
464.
For those endowed with knowledge and virtue, who through their wisdom have become as torches to their disciples, even those have not progressed beyond this night profound. They have left some fables and returned to death's long sleep.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] About 1272 A.D.
[2] This title is hard to determine without any acquaintance with the contents of the pamphlet.
[3] C.H.A. Bjerregaard in «The Sufi Omar». J.F. Taylor & Co., N.Y., 1902.
[4] Some of Omar's Rubaiyat warn us of the danger of greatness, the instability of fortune, and while advocating charity to all men, recommending us to be too intimate with none. Attar makes Nizam ul Mulk use the very words of his friend Omar [Rub. xxviii.], «When Nizam ul Mulk was in the Agony (of Death) he said, 'Oh God! I am passing away in the hand of the Wind.'»
[5] Though all these, like our Smiths, Archers, Millers, Fletchers, etc., may simply regain the surname of an hereditary calling.
[6] «_Philosophe Musulman qui a vêcu en Odeur de Sainteté dans sa Religion, vers la Fin du premier et le Commencement du second Siècle_,» no part of which, except the «_Philosophe_» can apply to our Khayyam.
[7] The Rashness of the Words, according to D'Herbelot, consisted in being so opposed to those in the Koran: «No Man knows where he shall die.»--This story of Omar reminds me of another so naturally--and when one remembers how wide of his humble mark the noble sailor aimed--so pathetically told by Captain Cook--not by Doctor Hawkesworth--in his Second Voyage (i. 374). When leaving Ulietea, «Oreo's last request was for me to return. When he saw he could not obtain that promise, he asked the name of my _Marai_ (burying-place). As strange a question as this was, I hesitated not a moment to tell him 'Stepney'; the parish in which I live when in London. I was made to repeat it several times over till they could pronounce it; and then '_Stepney Marai no Toote_' was echoed through an hundred mouths at once. I afterwards found the same question had been put to Mr. Forster by a man on shore; but he gave a different, and indeed more proper answer, by saying, 'No man who used the sea could say where he should be buried.'»
[8] «Since this paper was written» (adds the Reviewer in a note), «we have met with a Copy of a very rare Edition, printed at Calcutta in 1836. This contains 438 Tetrastichs, with an Appendix containing 54 others not found in some MSS.»
[9] Professor Cowell.
[10] This was written in 1868.
[11] Perhaps he would have edited the Poems himself some years ago. He may now as little approve of my version on one side, as of M. Nicolas' theory on the other.
[12] A note to Quatrain 234 admits that, however clear the mystical meaning of such Images must be to Europeans, they are not quoted without «_rougissant_» even by laymen in Persia--«_Quant aux termes de tendresse qui commencent ce quatrain, comme tant d'autres dans ce recueil, nos lecteurs, habitués maintenant à l'étrangeté des expressions si souvent employées par Khèyam pour rendre ses pensées sur l'amour divin, et à la singularité de ses images trop orientales, d'une sensualité quelquefois révoltante, n'auront pas de peine à se persuader qu'il s'agit de la Divinité, bien que cette conviction soit vivement discutée par les moullahs musulmans et même par beaucoup de laïques, qui rougissent véritablement d'une pareille licence de leur compatriote à l'égard des choses spirituelles._»
[13] _Two Years' Travel in Persia_, etc., i. 165.
[14] The precise degree to which FitzGerald himself deemed it expedient to adhere to his original may be gathered by referring to quatrains of his which he has himself declared to be renderings of particular and isolated ruba'iyat.
[15] These references are to other MSS. and printed texts and translations in which the cited quatrain is represented. I say advisedly «represented,» as the different texts differ a good deal. Often when a quatrain is repeated in the same text, variations may be found in it. The general scope of these variations may be appreciated by a glance at the notes to my translation of the Ouseley MS. (O.). I do not propose to deal with them here, excepting where there are important differences between the Calcutta MS. (C.) and the Ouseley, both of which were before Edward FitzGerald and between which he had to choose.
[16] _i.e._, the Saki, or Cupbearer, or Drawer (generally a comely youth), to whom a large proportion of Omar's ruba'iyat are addressed.
[17] Many parallels between these translations of Hafiz and FitzGerald's ruba'iyat may be found in the Terminal Essay to my former work.
[18] The _sunnat_, or Traditions of Muhammad, supplementing the Qur'an, and held in almost equal reverence.
[19] _Zendha deli-ra_ means the heart alive, or initiated in the spiritual sense, as opposed to the mere pleasure-seekers of the world.
[20] See FitzGerald's notes to this quatrain.
[21] C. reads «verdure.»
[22] C. reads «In the eyes of the clouds the veils are parted.»
[23] See the Terminal Essay above referred to.
[24] The sweet voice of David recurs continually in Persian poetry. We find it in C. 89 _et passim_.
[25] Pehlevi was the language of the ancient Persians of pre-Muhammadan times. FitzGerald's description of it as «old heroic Sanskrit» is erroneous.
[26] Yellow is the colour indicative in Persian literature of sickness or misery, corresponding to our word «sallow.»
[27] _i.e._, «Permit us to regret our repentance.»
[28] Numbers of quatrains distinguished by the asterisk indicate that the quatrains were not in FitzGerald's first edition, but made their appearance in the second or subsequent editions. FitzGerald may therefore have been «reminded of» them by (and in some instances took them direct from) the text and translation of Nicolas, referred to as N
[29] C. reads «Since life passes, what is sweet and what is bitter?»
[30] _Dai_ is the month that ushers in the winter quarter of the Muhammadan year.
[31] _i.e._, Jamshyd the «_Roi soleil_» of early Persian history, and the Kaianian dynasty--Kai Kobad, Kai Kawus, Kai Khosru, etc.
[32] It will be observed that the introduction of Zal in this line was made by FitzGerald in the third edition for metrical effect. The versions in the first edition «Let Rustum lay about him as he will,» and in the second «Let Rustum cry 'to battle' as he likes» are closer to the phrase in the original «Rustum _son_ of Zal.»
[33] Feridun was the sixth king of the Paish-dadian dynasty. _Jamish_ is evidently an error for _Jam-ist_. _Vide_ the MS.
[34] See FitzGerald's note to this quatrain.
[35] Literally «a stopper of the last breath.»
[36] Kausar, in Persian mythology, is the head-stream of the Muhammadan Paradise, whence all other rivers are supposed to flow. A whole chapter of the Qur'an is devoted to this miraculous stream, whose Saki is Ali, the son-in-law of Muhammad.
[37] This Persian here is a quotation from a famous verse in the Qur'an, XXV. 11, «Blessed is He who, if He pleaseth, will make for thee a better provision than this, namely, gardens under which rivers flow, and he will provide thee palaces.»--E.B.C.
[38] C. reads for «food» and «wine,» «goblet» and «lute,» whence we get «thou beside me _singing_ in the wilderness.»
[39] These two lines refer to the practice in the East of burying treasure to hide it when a night attack (line 1) of dacoits or robbers is anticipated.
[40] See FitzGerald's note upon this hero, and the following quatrain.
[41] Moles or «beauty spots» are very highly esteemed in the East.
[42] _i.e._, If life were eternal, you could not take the place of others who have died before you. L. 2, _lit._: «let the world pass, etc.»
[43] _i.e._, the Mystic Road or Way of Salvation.
[44] Burak was the winged mule of Muhammad on which he is said to have journeyed from Jerusalem to heaven.
[45] This is a very difficult quatrain to translate. The mystic soaring of the soul in search of enlightenment is compared to the flight of a falcon. In l. 3, _lit._: «any partner of the secret.»
[46] C. reads these two lines:--
These two or three days of the period of my existence pass by They pass as passes the wind in the desert.
[47] Compare FitzGerald's «First Morning of Creation» in q. 73.
[48] _i.e._, the Curtain that Veils the Mysteries of God, a constantly recurring image in Persian literature.
[49] C. reads «of this juggling about of the soul.» E.B.C. suggests «of this chess-opening.»
[50] C. reads «And was enslaved by the curly head of a sweetheart.»
[51] _i.e._, «Let us cease striving to earn salvation.»
[52] C. reads «with love.»
[53] FitzGerald records in his note to this quatrain that had it not been for the advice of Prof. Cowell, this and the two following quatrains would have been withdrawn after the Second Edition. It is impossible to conceive why, for they are singularly fine and exceptionally «authorized.»
[54] FitzGerald's rendering in the 1st edition (Introduction), «in this clay suburb» is a more literal rendering.
[55] _i.e._, The ferrash of fate, preparing for the next halting-place, destroys this tent (body) when the Sultan (soul) arises.
[56] I do not know the origin of N.'s text, but I have never seen this quatrain in any other MS. The same remark applies to N. 123, cited under No. 47.
[57] C. reads «From my creation the Age derived no advantage.»
[58] _Harifan_; literally, «companions,» « fellow-workers.»
[59] _i.e._, The One God. Compare Hafiz (Ode 416), «He who knows the One, knows all.»
[60] Prof. Cowell's translation. V. appends a note, «Apparently the Essence of Life, the _Ding an Sich_ of Kant, and the _Wille_ of Schopenhauer, the Platonic Idea, the abiding type of the perishable individuality; possibly, however, the Vedantic 'self' is meant.» For the word _mah_ = moon at the commencement of the quatrain, some of the texts read _badeh_ = wine.
[61] Literally, «discernment.»
[62] The obscurity of the meaning here baffles satisfactory translation. Prof. Cowell says: I would rather take it as a sarcasm, «Those fools with their unripe grapes become (in their own eyes) pure wine.»
[63] _Azal_ in Persian dogma is eternity without beginning, _i.e._, «_from_ all time,» as opposed to _abad_, eternity without end, _i.e._, «_to_ all eternity.»
[64] In the East a man may divorce his wife twice and take her back again, but the third time it is irrevocable--unless (curiously enough) she has been married to someone else in the meantime.
[65] _i.e._, Wine, a recurrent Persian metaphor. Comp.: Arabic «_bint-ul-kerm_.»
[66] _Zahir_ = exoteric, as opposed to _batin_ = esoteric, in line 2.
[67] C. reads «I am weary.»
[68] The opening lines of FitzGerald's quatrain refer to Omar's reformation of the calendar, and institution of the Jalali era, which Gibbon describes as «a computation of time which surpassed the Julian, and approached the accuracy of the Gregorian style.» («Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,» Gibbing's edition, 1890, vol. iv., p. 180.)
[69] C. reads «So long as I live, I will not grieve for two days.»
[70] _i.e._, Wine.
[71] The _Lauh u Kalam_ are the Tablet and Pen whereon and wherewith the Divine decrees of what should be from all time were written. Compare Koran, ch. lxviii, 1. «By the Pen and what they write, O Muhammad! thou art not distracted.»
[72] The river Oxus.
[73] The editor of the «Calcutta Review» appends the following note at the foot of Prof. Cowell's article (E.C.), «These lanthorns are very common in Calcutta. They are made of a tall cylinder with figures of men and animals cut out of paper and pasted on it. The cylinder, which is very light, is suspended on an axis, round which it easily turns. A hole is cut near the bottom, and the part cut out is fixed at an angle to the cylinder so as to form a vane. When a small lamp or candle is placed inside, a current of air is produced which keeps the cylinder slowly revolving.»
[74] This refers to the game of Polo. In the First and Second Editions for «Here or There» we read «Right or Left» as in the original.
[75] C. reads «Upon the Tablet.»
[76] Literally, «For the Pen once gone comes not back.»
[77] See FitzGerald's note on this quatrain.
[78] _i.e._, Of reality as opposed to the dream existence of the present. (E.B.C.)
[79] The _Mihrab_ is the spot in a Mosque indicating the precise direction of Mecca towards which all Muhammadans turn in prayer.
[80] This metaphor recurs frequently in the ruba'iyat. Compare W. 261 (N. 221) and W. 275 (L. 428).
[81] _i.e._, «it was quite problematical how I might turn out.»
[82] Here begins the section devoted especially to the talking pots in the workshop of the potter--it ends at quatrain No. 90. In the first edition this section was entitled KUZA-NAMA = the «Pot-book» or «Book of Pots.» It may be observed that the quatrains in this section are not so closely rendered from recognisable originals as the other quatrains composing FitzGerald's poem. This may be accounted for by the fact that the comparison between the human form--the Personal Ego--and a pot made of earth by the Supreme Potter (if one may be allowed the phrase) is constantly recurrent in all ruba'iyat attributed to Omar Khayyam. The section is therefore to a great extent a poetical reflection upon this phase of the philosophy of the ruba'iyat. The use FitzGerald has made of O. 103 cannot fail to amaze the student. _Vide_ his own Note to quatrain 89.
[83] Ramazan (or Ramadan) is the ninth month of the Muhammadan year, which is observed as a month of fasting and penance, during which rigid Moslems may neither eat, drink, wash, nor caress their wives, excepting so far as is necessary to support life. Sha'ban is the month immediately preceding it. Shawwal is the month that follows it, which begins with the great feast of Bairam, the festival referred to in line 4.
[84] A very obscure distich to translate. The sense is here, however.
[85] Compare Romans ch. ix. v. 21. «Hath not the potter power over the clay, of the same lump to make one vessel unto honour, and another unto dishonour.»
[86] _i.e._, Helping one another to raise their loads. Prof. Denison Ross suggests that this refers to the cry of the porters and muleteers in the narrow streets of Persian cities. «_Pusht! Pusht!_» _i.e._, «Mind your backs!»
[87] _Kah-ruba_ means literally «attracting straws»; hence «amber,» the elektron of the Greeks. Here it is used in the descriptive sense to mean «yellow.»
[88] _Wuzu_, the ceremonial Ablution enjoined upon Muhammadans to put them into a state of grace before prayer.
[89] _Wakt-i-gul_ = the season of roses, a common synonym for Spring.
[90] Literally «has become Dai,» the first winter-month; translated «December,» _sub_ quatrain No. 9.
[91] _Lit._: «Or from the invisible world increase my daily provision.»
[92] C. reads «this heart full of melancholy (or passion).»
[93] It will be observed that this quatrain in the first edition came a good deal closer to the original than this.
[94] _Maghanah_ means anything connected with the Maghs or Magians (_i.e._, the Guebres or Fire-worshippers), and came to be a synonym for age, superiority, excellence, in which sense it is used here. S. Rousseau has a very interesting note upon the history of this word at p. 176 of his «Flowers of Persian Literature» (London, 1801).
[95] Meaning FitzGerald's Introduction. See Page 1.
[96] Prof. Cowell says: «I am not sure, but I fancy this hard verse really is: 'O thou who art burned (in sorrow) for one burnt (in hell)--thyself being doomed to be burnt.' If this is correct (which is most probable) the accuracy of FitzGerald's translation is remarkable.»
[97] The phrase _gauhar suftan_ = «to thread pearls» is used in Persian to mean «to write verses» or «to tell a story.» Omar uses it here referring to the generally antinomian tendency of his ruba'iyat.
[98] In this line Omar claims consideration on the ground that he has never questioned the Unity of God. _Tawhid kerdan_ = to acknowledge One God. Muhammadanism is essentially Unitarian. FitzGerald appears to have missed the meaning here, reversing the doctrine, unless he means «I never misread One _as_ Two.»
[99] L. 1. _lit._ «rubbed its side with heaven.» This is the quatrain that R.B.M. Binning found written upon a stone in the ruins of Persepolis (A Journal of Two Years' Travel in Persia, Ceylon, etc., London, 1857, Vol. ii. p. 20). FitzGerald quotes it in a letter to Prof. Cowell, under date 13th January, 1859. (Letters and Literary Remains of Edward FitzGerald, London, 1889. Macmillan, 3 vols., and 1894, 2 vols.) The word _ku_ in Persian signifies «Where?»
[100] The fifth edition is identical with the fourth.
[101] See Defrémery, «_Recherches sur le règne de Barkiárok_,» p. 51.
[102] Avicenna died in 428 A.H.