“DWELL here three sad sweet spirits : Perfume born
Of fading Rose-leaves, visions of The Thorn
Behind each Flower of Joy in Life’s Bouquet,
And one long Sigh we make too oft to scorn.
A HAIR perhaps divides the False and True;” ‘
Or False or True thy Verses, we this due
Of meed bestow on One most bitter-sweet :
We read and dream, then dream and read anew.”
CHARLES P. NETTLETON.
Reprinted from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, with introduction by Hon. John Hay in 1897.
Omar Khayyám (1048–1123), was Persian poet, mathematician and astronomer. His writings have been treasured worldwide, with a wide array of translations into many languages.
XXI
“Ah, MY Beloved, fill the Cup that clears
To-day fo past Regretes and future Fears:
To-morrow! – Why, To-morrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday’s Sev’n thousand Years.
XXII
FOR some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to rest.
XXIII
AND we, that now make merry in the Room
They left, and summer dresses in new bloom,
Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth
Descend – ourselves to make a Couch – for whom?
XXIV
AH, MAKE the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;
Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and – sans End!
Of all the verses this is my favorite:
XXVIII
WITH them the seed of Wisdom did I sow,
And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow;
And this was all the Harvest that I reap’d-
“I came like Water, and like Wind I go.”
Reprint from the translation by Edward Fitzgerald in 1911.
Read the entire poem
