Chapter IV: Part 4

«Why,» said another, «Some there are who tell
Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell
The luckless Pots he marr'd in making--Pish!
He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well.»

The inspiration for this quatrain, and I think for No. 86, comes from C. 69 and C. 159:

Since the Director set in order the elements of natures,
For what cause does He again disperse them into loss and deficiency?
If they are good, why should He break them?
And if they turn out bad, well, why is there any blame to these forms?

_Ref._: C. 69, L. 103, B. 99, P. 94, B. ii. 107.--W. 126, V. 103.

They say that at the resurrection there will be much searching,
And that that excellent Friend will be hasty;
Nothing but good ever came from the Unalloyed Goodness,
Be happy! for the upshot will be all right!

_Ref._: C. 159, L. 316, B. 312, S.P. 178, P. 197.--W. 193, N. 178, V. 318.

LXXXIX.

«Well,» murmured one, «Let whoso make or buy,
My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry:
But fill me with the old familiar Juice,
Methinks I might recover by and by.»

This quatrain is inspired by C. 188 and O. 116:

At that moment when the plant of my existence shall be rooted up,
And its branches scattered in all directions;
If then they make a flagon of my clay,
When they fill it with wine it will live again.

_Ref._: C. 188, S.P. 115.--N. 115.

When I am abased beneath the foot of Destiny,
And am rooted up from the hope of life,
Take heed that thou makest nothing but a goblet of my clay,
Haply when it is full of wine I may revive.

_Ref._: O. 116, C. 345, L. 539, B. 534, S.P. 289, P. 227, B. ii. 385, T. 230, P. v. 146.--W. 330, N. 290, V. 579.

XC.

So while the Vessels one by one were speaking,
The little Moon look'd in that all were seeking:
And then they jogg'd each other, «Brother! Brother!
Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creaking!»

* * * * *

This quatrain which concludes the Kuza Nama is inspired by the concluding quatrain of O. 158.

The month of Ramazan passes and Shawwal comes,
The season of increase, and joy, and storytellers comes;
Now comes that time when «Bottles upon the shoulder!»
They say--for the porters come and are back to back.[86]

_Ref._: O. 158.--W. 218.

XCI.

Ah, with the Grape my fading life provide,
And wash the Body whence the Life has died,
And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf,
By some not unfrequented Garden-side.

This quatrain owes its inspiration to C. 12.

When I am dead wash me with wine,
Say my funeral service with pure wine,
If thou wishest that thou shouldst see me on the resurrection-day
Thou must seek me in the earth of the tavern threshold.

_Ref._: C. 12, L. 13, B. 12, S.P. 7, P. 299, B. ii. 9, T. 12.--W 6, N. 7, V. 11

O. 69 may also be quoted:

Take heed to stay me with the wine-cup,
And make this amber[87] face like a ruby;
When I die, wash me with wine,
And out of the wood of the vine make the planks of my coffin.

_Ref._: O. 69, C. 158, L. 308, B. 304, S.P. 109, P. 212, B. ii. 199, T. 143, P. v. 153.--W. 139, N. 109, V. 311.

XCII.

That ev'n my buried Ashes such a snare
Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air
As not a True-believer passing by
But shall be overtaken unaware.

This quatrain is translated from C. 16.

I will drink so much wine that this aroma of wine
Shall rise from the earth when I am beneath it;
So that when a drinker shall pass above my body,
He shall become drunk and degraded from the aroma of my potations.

_Ref._: C. 16, L. 28, B. 26, S.P. 14, B. ii. 11.--W. 17, N. 14, V. 27.

XCIII.

Indeed the Idols I have loved so long
Have done my credit in this World much wrong;
Have drown'd my Glory in a shallow Cup,
And sold my Reputation for a Song.

The inspiration for this quatrain comes from C. 170.

When my mood inclined to prayer and fasting,
I said that all my salvation was attained;
Alas! that those Ablutions[88] are destroyed by my pleasures,
And that Fast of mine is annulled by half a draught of wine.

_Ref._: C. 170, L. 366, B. 362, S.P. 162, P. 343, B. ii. 207, T. 118.--W. 180, N. 162, V. 365.

The last line is suggested by O. 22.

XCIV.

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.

This quatrain is inspired by C. 431.

Every day I resolve to repent in the evening,
Making repentance of the brimful goblet and cup;
Now that the season of roses[89] has come, I cannot grieve
Give penitence for repentance in the season of roses, O Lord!

_Ref._: C. 431, L. 655, B. 647 B. ii. 510.--W. 425, V. 704.

XCV.

And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel,
And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour--Well,
I wonder often what the Vintners buy
One half so precious as the stuff they sell.

The original of this quatrain is O. 62.

Although wine has rent my veil (of reputation),
So long as I have a soul I will not be separated from wine;
I am in perplexity concerning vintners, for they--
What will they buy that is better than what they sell?

_Ref._: O. 62, C. 196, L. 350, B. 346, P. 311, B. ii. 167, T. 123, P. iv. 63, P. v. 202.--W. 208, N. 463, E.C. 11, V. 350.

XCVI.

Yet Ah, 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!

This quatrain is translated from C. 223.

Alas! that the book of youth is folded up?
And that this fresh purple spring is winter-stricken;[90]
That bird of joy, whose name is Youth,
Alas! I know not when it came nor when it went.

_Ref._: C. 223, L. 332, B. 328, S.P. 128, B. ii. 155, T. 161.--W. 155, N. 128, V. 334.

XCVII.*

Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield
One glimpse--if dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd,
To which the fainting Traveller might spring,
As springs the trampled herbage of the field!

This quatrain is inspired by C. 509.

Oh! would that there were a place of repose,
Or that we might come to the end of the road;
Would that from the heart of earth, after a hundred thousand years,
We might all hope to blossom again like the verdure.

_Ref._: C. 509, L. 768, B. 754, S.P. 395, B. ii. 522.--W. 442, N. 400, V. 820.

XCVIII.*

Would but some wingéd Angel ere too late
Arrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate,
And make the stern Recorder otherwise
Enregister, or quite obliterate!

This quatrain in its original form in the second edition was closer to the original Persian.

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!

It owes its inspiration to N 457.

I would that God should entirely alter the world,
And that he should do it now, that I might see him do it;
And either that he should cross my name from the Roll,
Or else raise my condition from want to plenty.[91]

_Ref._: N. 457, S.P. 451.--W. 486, V. 841.

XCIX.

Ah, Love! could you and I with Him 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!

* * * * *

This quatrain is translated from C. 395.

Had I, like God, control of the heavens,
Would I not do away with the heavens altogether,
Would I not so construct another heaven from the beginning
That, being free, one might attain to the heart's desire?

_Ref._: C. 395, L. 594, B. 587, S.P. 337, P. 98, B. ii, 450, T. 268.--W. 379, N. 340, V. 641.

C.

Yon rising moon that looks for us again--
How oft hereafter will she wax and wane;
How oft hereafter rising look for us
Through this same Garden--and for _one_ in vain.

This quatrain in its various forms is inspired by O. 5.

Since no one will guarantee thee a to-morrow,
Make thou happy now this lovesick heart;[92]
Drink wine in the moonlight, O Moon, for the moon[93]
Shall seek us long and shall not find us.

_Ref._: O. 5, C. 7, L. 5, S.P. 8, P. 219, B. 4, B. ii. 8, T. 6, P. v. 168.--W. 7, N. 8, E.C. 5, V. 4.

CI.

And when like her, Oh Saki, you shall pass
Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass,
And in your joyous errand reach the spot
Where I made One--turn down an empty Glass!

This quatrain is taken from O. 83 and 84.

Friends when ye hold a meeting together,
It behoves ye warmly to remember your friend;
When ye drink wholesome wine together,
And my turn comes, turn (a goblet) upside down.

_Ref_.: O. 83.--W. 234, V. 459.

Friends, when with consent ye make a tryst together,
And take delight in one another's charms,
When the Cup-bearer takes (round) in his hand the Mugh[94] wine,
Remember a certain helpless one in your benediction.

_Ref._: O. 84, L. 290, B. 286, S.P. 191, P. 226, B. ii. 245.--W. 205, N. 192, V. 293.

APPENDIX.

In addition to the quatrains composing the final form in which we know his poem, there are a few stray quatrains scattered about Edward FitzGerald's Introduction and Notes. There are also two quatrains which appeared in the first edition only, and nine that appeared in the second edition only. I do not think that this work would be complete without an attempt to identify these quatrains in the original texts which inspired them.

IN THE INTRODUCTION.[95]

PAGE 4.

Khayyam, who stitched the Tents of Science,
Has fallen in Grief's furnace and been suddenly burned;
The shears of Fate have cut the tent-ropes of his life,
And the Broker of Hope has sold him for nothing!

The quatrain upon p. 4 is a literal translation by Prof. Cowell of O. 22.

_Ref._: O. 22, C. 59, L. 74, B. 70, S.P. 81, P. 205, B. ii. 94, T. 307, P. iv. 65, P. v. 195.--W. 83, N. 81, V. 73.

PAGE 7.

Oh, Thou who burn'st in Heart for those who burn
In Hell, whose fires thyself shall feed in turn;
How long be crying, «Mercy on them, God!»
Why, who art Thou to teach, and He to learn?

The quatrain upon p. 7 is FitzGerald's rendering of C. I.

O, burnt one (born) of the burnt! destined in turn to burn,
And oh, thou! from whom the fires of Hell shall blaze,[96]
How long wilt thou keep saying, «Have mercy upon Omar!»
Wilt _thou_ be a teacher of mercy to _God_?

_Ref._: C. 1, L. 769, B. 755, S.P. 453, P. ii. 1, B. ii. 537, T. 1.--W. 488, N. 459, V. 821.

PAGE 7.

If I myself upon a looser Creed
Have loosely strung the Jewel of Good deed,
Let this one thing for my Atonement plead.
That One for Two I never did misread.

The quatrain on p. 7 is FitzGerald's rendering of O. 1.

If I have never threaded the pearl[97] of thy service,
And if I have never wiped the dust of sin from my face,
Nevertheless, I am not hopeless of thy mercy,
For the reason that I have never said that One was Two.[98]

_Ref._: O. 1, C. 274, L. 423, B. 419, P. 4, S.P. 228, B. ii. 302, P. iv. 8.--W. 268, N. 229, V. 461.

IN THE NOTES.

XVIII.

The Palace that to Heav'n his pillars threw,
And Kings the forehead on his threshold drew--
I saw the solitary Ringdove there,
And «Coo, coo, coo!» she cried, and «Coo, coo, coo.»

The quatrain in the note to quatrain No. 18 is translated from C. 419.

That palace that reared its pillars up to heaven,
Kings prostrated themselves upon its threshold;
I saw a dove that, upon its battlements,
Uttered its cry: «Where, where, where, where?»[99]

_Ref._: C. 419, L. 627, B. 619, S.P. 347, P. 140, B. ii. 459, P. iv. 13.--W. 392, N. 350, V. 677.

XC.

Be of Good Cheer--the sullen Month will die,
And a young Moon requite us by and by:
Look how the Old one, meagre, bent, and wan
With Age and Past, is fainting from the Sky!

The quatrain in the note to quatrain No. 90 is translated from C. 218.

Be happy! for the moon of thy festival will come,
The means of mirth will all be propitious;
This moon has become lean, bent-figured and thin,
Thou may'st say that it will sink under this trouble.

_Ref._: C. 218, B. ii. 186.

IN THE FIRST EDITION.

XXXIII.

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.

XLV.

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.

XXXVII.

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?

In the first edition we find quatrain No. 33, which, like its distant cousin in the fourth edition (No. 34), appears to have no near parallel in the texts. No. 45 is a quatrain in a like predicament, and it may be for this reason that FitzGerald dropped it out of all subsequent editions.

The only other quatrain peculiar to the first edition is No. 37. This would appear to have been inspired by ll. 3 and 4 of O. 20, quoted in the parallels to quatrain No. 57 and by O. 17, ll. 3 and 4.

Nothing thou canst say of yesterday, that is past, is sweet;
Be happy and do not speak of yesterday, for to-day is sweet.

_Ref._: O. 17, C. 84, L. 193, B. 190, P. 126, B. ii. 59, T. 65 and 352, P. iv. 68, P. v. 62.--W 112, E.C. 6, V. 189.

IN THE SECOND EDITION.

The quatrains peculiar to the second edition are as follows:

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!

This quatrain is inspired by O. 136.

How long shall I grieve about what I have or have not,
And whether I shall pass this life light-heartedly or not?
Fill up the wine-cup, for I do not know
That I shall breathe out the breath that I am drawing in.

_Ref._: O. 136, C. 504 and 427, L. 740, B. 726, S.P. 362, P. 207, B. ii. 484, P. v. 64.--W. 411, N. 366, V. 730.

XXVIII.

This was replaced by No. 63 in the fourth and fifth editions, taken from the same original.

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.

The sentiment of this quatrain is traceable in C. 189, ll. 1 and 2, and in C. 195.

Be happy! for the time will come
(When) all bodies will be hidden in the earth.

_Ref._: C. 189, L. 393, B. 389, S.P. 160, B. ii. 203.--N. 160, V. 390.

My whole mood is in sympathy with rosy cheeks,
My hand is always grasping the wine cup;
I exact from every part (of me) its allotted function,
Ere that those parts (of me) be mingled with the all.

_Ref._: C. 195, L. 349, B. 345, S.P. 163, P. 287, B. ii. 206, T. 122.--W. 181, N. 163, V. 349.

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.

This quatrain is inspired by O. 127 and by C. 60.

To drink wine and consort with a company of the beautiful
Is better than practising the hypocrisy of the zealot;
If the lover and the drunkard are doomed to hell,
Then no one will see the face of heaven.

_Ref._: O. 127, L. 608, B. 601, S.P. 339, P. 330, B. ii. 453, P. v. 151.--W. 381, N. 342, V. 655.

FitzGerald was evidently «reminded of» this by N. 64 which is C. 60.

They say that drunkards will go to hell,
It is a repugnant creed, the heart cannot believe it;
If drunken lovers are doomed to hell,
To-morrow heaven will be bare like the palm of one's hand.

_Ref._: C. 60, L. 158, B. 155, S.P. 64, T. 308, P. v. 29.--W. 67, N 64, V. 156.

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.

For this quatrain I can find neither authority nor inspiration.

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.

I think the inspiration for this must have been C. 8.

No man is he whom his fellow men spurn,
And (at the same time) for fear of his malice number among the good;
If a drunkard shows reluctance in generosity,
All his fellow drunkards hold him to be a mean fellow.

_Ref._: C. 8, L. 3, B. ii. 15, T. 9.--V. 416.

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.

This was a fourth quatrain evolved out of O. 103. _Vide_ quatrains Nos. 82, 83, and 87 _ante_.

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 quatrain, interpolated after No. 91 of the fourth edition (= No. 98 of the second edition), is an elaboration founded upon the story told by Nizam ul-Mulk and recorded by FitzGerald in his Introduction.

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.