Rubaiyyat

Omar Khayaam



			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.
			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.
	

			*****


			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.
	

			*****

			10

	With me along some Strip of Herbage strown
	That just divides the desert from the sown,
	Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce is known,
	And pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne.
			11

	Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
	A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse---and Thou
	Beside me singing in the Wilderness---
	And Wilderness is Paradise enow.

			12

	"How sweet is mortal Sovranty!"---think some:
	Others---"How blest the Paradise to come!"
	Ah, take the Cash in hand and waive the Rest;
	Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!

			*****


			13

	Look to the Rose that blows about us---"Lo,
	"Laughing," she says, "into the World I blow:
	"At once the silken Tassel of my Purse
	"Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw."

			14

	The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon
	Turns Ashes---or it prospers; and anon,
	Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face
	Lighting a little Hour or two---is gone.

			15

	And those who husbanded the Golden Grain,
	And those who flung it to the Winds like Rain,
	Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd
	As, buried once, Men want dug up again.

			16

	Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai
	Whose Doorways are alternate Night and Day,
	How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp
	Abode his Hour or two, and went his way.

			*****


			17

	They say the Lion and the Lizard keep
	The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep;
	And Bahram, that great Hunter---the Wild Ass
	Stamps o'er his Head, and he lies fast asleep.

			18

	I sometimes think that never so red
	The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;
	That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
	Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head.

			19

	And this delightful Herb whose tender Green
	Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean---
	Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
	From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!

			20

	Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
	TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears---
	To-morrow?---Why, To-morrow I may be
	Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years.

			*****


			21

	Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and best
	That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest,
	Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
	And one by one crept silently to Rest.

			22

	And we, that now make merry in the Room
	They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom,
	Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth
	Descend, ourselves to make a Couch---for whom?

			23

	Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
	Before we too into the Dust descend;
	Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
	Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and---sans End!
			24

	Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare,
	And those that after a TO-MORROW stare,
	A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries
	"Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There!"

			*****


			25

	Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd
	Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust
	Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn
	Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.

			26

	Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise
	To talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies;
	One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies;
	The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.

			27

	Myself when young did eagerly frequent
	Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument
	About it and about: but evermore
	Came out by the same Door as in I went.
			28

	With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow,
	And with my own hand labour'd it to grow:
	And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd---
	"I came like Water, and like Wind I go."

			*****


			29

	Into this Universe, and why not knowing,
	Nor whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing:
	And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
	I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.

			30

	What, without asking, hither hurried whence?
	And, without asking, whither hurried hence!
	Another and another Cup to drown
	The Memory of this Impertinence!

			31

	Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate
	I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,
	And many Knots unravel'd by the Road;
	But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate.

			32

	There was a Door to which I found no Key:
	There was a Veil past which I could not see:
	Some little Talk awhile of ME and THEE
	There seemed---and then no more of THEE and ME.

			*****


			33

	Then to the rolling Heav'n itself I cried,
	Asking, "What Lamp had Destiny to guide
	"Her little Children stumbling in the Dark?"
	And---"A blind Understanding!" Heav'n replied.

			34

	Then to this earthen Bowl did I adjourn
	My Lip the secret Well of Life to learn:
	And Lip to Lip it murmur'd---"While you live
	"Drink!---for once dead you never shall return."

			35

	I think the Vessel, that with fugitive
	Articulation answer'd, once did live,
	And merry-make; and the cold Lip I kiss'd
	How many Kisses might it take---and give!

			36

	For in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day,
	I watch'd the Potter thumping his wet Clay:
	And with its all obliterated Tongue
	It murmur'd---"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!"

			*****


			37

	Ah, fill the Cup:---what boots it to repeat
	How Time is slipping underneath our Feet:
	Unborn TO-MORROW, and dead YESTERDAY,
	Why fret about them if TO-DAY be sweet!

			38

	One Moment in Annihilation's Waste,
	One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste---
	The Stars are setting and the Caravan
	Starts for the Dawn of Nothing---Oh, make haste!

			39

	How long, how long, in infinite Pursuit
	Of This and That endeavour and dispute?
	Better be merry with the fruitful Grape
	Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.

			40

	You know, my Friends, how long since in my House
	For a new Marriage I did make Carouse:
	Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,
	And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.

			*****


			41

	For "IS" and "IS-NOT" though with Rule and Line,
	And "UP-AND-DOWN" without, I could define,
	I yet in all I only cared to know,
	Was never deep in anything but---Wine.

			42

	And lately, by the Tavern Door agape,
	Came stealing through the Dusk an Angel Shape
	Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and
	He bid me taste of it; and 'twas---the Grape!

			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.

			*****


			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.

			*****


			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.

			*****


			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?"

			*****


			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."
	

			*****

			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.
	

			*****


			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!
	

			*****


			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.)

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