Chapter VII: Part 7

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.