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Re: from The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám (Re: sentimental)
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43
The Grape that can with Logic absolute The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute: The subtle Alchemist that in a Trice Life's leaden Metal into Gold transmute.
44
The mighty Mahmud, the victorious Lord, That all the misbelieving and black Horde Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul Scatters and slays with his enchanted Sword.
*****
45
But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me The Quarrel of the Universe let be: And, in some corner of the Hubbub coucht, Make Game of that which makes as much of Thee.
46
For in and out, above, about, below, 'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show, Play'd in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.
47
And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press, End in the Nothing all Things end in ---Yes--- Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what Thou shalt be---Nothing---Thou shalt not be less.
48
While the Rose blows along the River Brink, With old Khayyam the Ruby Vintage drink: And when the Angel with his darker Draught Draws up to Thee---take that, and do not shrink.
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49
'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays: Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays.
50
The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes, But Right or Left, as strikes the Player goes; And He that toss'd Thee down into the Field, *He* knows about it all---He knows---HE knows!
51
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
52
And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky, Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die, Lift not thy hands to *It* for help---for It Rolls impotently on as Thou or I.
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53
With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man's knead, And then of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: Yea, the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.
54
I tell Thee this---When, starting from the Goal, Over the shoulders of the flaming Foal Of Heav'n Parvin and Mushtara they flung, In my predestin'd Plot of Dust and Soul
55
The Vine had struck a Fibre; which about If clings my Being---let the Sufi flout; Of my Base Metal may be filed a Key, That shall unlock the Door he howls without
56
And this I know: whether the one True Light, Kindle to Love, or Wrathconsume me quite, One Glimpse of It within the Tavern caught Better than in the Temple lost outright.
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57
Oh, Thou, who didst with Pitfall and with Gin Beset the Road I was to wander in, Thou wilt not with Predestination round Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to Sin?
58
Oh, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, And who with Eden didst devise the Snake; For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man Is blacken'd, Man's Forgiveness give---and take!
KUZA-NAMA ("Book of Pots.")
59
Listen again. One Evening at the Close Of Ramazan, ere the better Moon arose, In that old Potter's Shop I stood alone With the clay Population round in Rows.
60
And, strange to tell, among that Earthen Lot Some could articulate, while others not: And suddenly one more impatient cried--- "Who *is* the Potter, pray, and who the Pot?"
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61
Then said another---"Surely not in vain "My Substance from the common Earth was ta'en, "That He who subtly wrought me into Shape "Should stamp me back to common Earth again."
62
Another said---"Why, ne'er a peevish Boy, "Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy; "Shall He that *made* the Vessel in pure Love "And Fancy, in an after Rage destroy!"
63
None answer'd this; but after Silence spake A Vessel of a more ungainly Make: "They sneer at me for learning all awry; "What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?"
64
Said one---"Folk of a surly Tapster tell "And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell; "They talk of some strict Testing of us---Pish! "He's a Good Fellow, and 't will all be well."
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65
Then said another with a long-drawn Sigh, "My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry: "But, fill me with the old familiar Juice, "Methinks I might recover by-and-bye!"
66
So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, One spied the little Crescent all were seeking: And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! Brother! "Hark to the Porter's Shoulder-knot a-creaking!"
67
Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, And wash my Body whence the Life has died, And in the Windingsheet of Vine-leaf wrapt, So bury me by some sweet Garden-side.
68
That ev'n my buried Ashes such a Snare Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air, As not a True Believer passing by But shall be overtaken unaware.
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69
Indeed the Idols I have loved so long Have done my Credit in Men's Eye much wrong: Have drown'd my Honour in a shallow Cup, And sold my Reputation for a Song.
70
Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore---but was I sober when I swore? And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore.
71
And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour---well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the Goods they sell.
72
Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the Branches sang, Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows!
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73
Ah Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits---and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire!
74
Ah, Moon of my Delight who Know'st no wane The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again: How oft hereafter rising shall she look Through this same Garden after me---in vain!
75
And when Thyself with shining Foot shall pass Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass, And in thy joyous Errand reach the Spot Where I made one---turn down an empty Glass!
TAMAM SHUD (It is completed.)
And now the modified and added version which is the Text of the Fifth Edition (1889).
1
Wake! For the Sun, who scatter'd into flight The Stars before him from the Field of Night, Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light.
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Edward FitzGerald's Translation. Modified and added version which is the Text of the Fifth Edition (1889):
2
Before the phantom of False morning died, Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried, "When all the Temple is prepared within, "Why nods the drowsy Worshiper outside?"
3
And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before The Tavern shouted---"Open then the Door! "You know how little while we have to stay, "And, once departed, may return no more."
4
Now the New Year reviving old Desires, The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Boug Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.
5
Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose, And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows; But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine, And many a Garden by the Water blows.
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6
And David's Lips are lockt; but in divine High-piping Pehlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine! "Red Wine!"---the Nightingale cries to the Rose That sallow cheek of hers to incarnadine.
7
Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter---and the Bird is on the Wing.
8
Whether at Naishapur or Babylon, Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, The Leaves of Life keeps falling one by one.
9
Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say: Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday? And this first Summer month that brings the Rose Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.
*****
It is us, the wine, the music, and this run-down corner; Our flesh and heart, the wine glass, and our cloths, all filled with the desire for wine; Free from the hope of forgiveness and free from the fear of punishment and pain free from dirty wind, fire, and water.
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