The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

by Omar Khayyám

Another said—“Why, ne’er a peevish Boy, Would break the Bowl from which he drank in Joy; Shall He that made the Vessel in pure Love And Fansy, in an after Rage destroy!”

Can go really send his creation he made with love to hell?

None answer’d this; but after Silence spake A Vessel of a more ungainly Make: “They sneer at me for leaning all awry; What! did the Hand then of the Potter shake?”

Ppl laugh at me for being awkward. Do they mean to say that God made a mistake when making me?

Said one—“Folks of a surly Tapster tell, And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell; They talk of some strict Testing of us—Pish! He’s a Good Fellow, and ’twill all be well.”

Ppl who daub face in the smoke of hell; those who make him seem vengeful; those who talk about God testing human beings, they should remember that God is a good fellow. Fear not, all will be well. Chill

little Crescent

What does Khayyam mean by cresccent?

Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, And wash my Body whence the Life has died, And in a Windingsheet of Vine-leaf wrapt, So bury me by some sweet Garden-side.

When I die, wash my body with wine and wrap me in wine leaf (?) and bury me in a vineyard Do all this so that my clay mihht never go dry again

That ev’n my buried Ashes such a Snare Of Perfume shall fl ing up into the Air, As not a True Believer passing by But shall be overtaken unaware.

Bathe me in so much wine that even a True believer gets drunk when he’s passing my grave

Indeed the Idols I have loved so long Have done my Credit in Men’s Eye much wrong: Have drown’d my Honour in a shallow Cup, And sold my Reputation for a Song.

My idols have destroyed my reputation

Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before I swore—but was I sober when I swore? And then and then came Spring, and Rosein-hand My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore.

I repent (when im drunk?), but come good times I am back to my old habits

And much as Wine has play’d the Infidel, And robb’d me of my Robe of Honour—well, I often wonder what the Vintners buy One half so precious as the Goods they sell.

??? Much as wine has played the role in losing my honor, I wonder what the wine sellers spend their money on?

Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! That Youth’s sweet-scented Manuscript should close! The Nightingale that in the Branches sang, Ah, whence, and whither fl own again, who knows!

It is sad that the good times should finish once the effect of wine has finished

Ah Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, Would not we shatter it to bits—and then Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire!

Would we not change this world as such to let the good times roll even when the effects of wine are finished

Moon of my Delight

Moon of Heav’n

Thyself

The title page of 1859 referred to the Rubáiyát as ‘Translated into English Verse’. 1868–79 have the more equivocal term ‘Rendered’.