Versos English Omar Khayyam Lxxiv.*

English poem

Lxxiv.*

by (1048–1131)

Listen in the reader

YESTERDAY This Day's Madness did prepare; TO-MORROW'S Silence, Triumph, or Despair: Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.

The first half of this quatrain comes from O. 152 and the second half from O. 26, ll. 3 and 4.

Be happy! they settled thy business yesterday, And beyond the reach of all thy longings is yesterday,

Live happily, for without any importunity on thy part yesterday, They appointed with certainty what thou wilt do to-morrow--yesterday!

Ref.: O. 152, C. 473, L. 702, B. ii. 564, P. v. 196.--W. 489, V. 754.

Be happy!--thou knowest not whence thou hast come: Drink wine!--thou knowest not whither thou shalt go.

Ref.: O. 26, C. 83, L. 192, B. 189, S.P. 85, B. ii. 110, T. 64, P. v. 34.--W 87, N. 85, V. 188.

LXXV.

I tell you this--When, started from the Goal, Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal Of Heav'n, Parwin and Mushtari they flung, In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul.

This quatrain is translated from C. 147.

On that day when they saddled the wild horses of the Sun, And settled the laws of Parwin and Mushtari, This was the lot decreed for me from the Diwan of Fate: How can I sin? (my sins) are what Fate allotted me as my portion.

Ref.: C. 147, L. 286, B. 282, S.P. 110.--W. 140, N. 110, V. 289.

LXXVI.

The Vine had struck a fibre; which about If clings my Being--let the Dervish flout; Of my Base metal may be filed a Key, That shall unlock the Door he howls without.

The sentiment of this quatrain is contained in C. 143.

Since Eternity itself was He created me, From the first he dictated to me the lesson of love, At that time a small filing of the dust of my heart, He made into a key of the treasure-house of substance.

Ref.: C. 143, L. 311, B. 307, P. 81, T. 134.--V. 314.

LXXVII.

And this I know; whether the one True Light Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite, One Flash of It within the Tavern caught Better than in the Temple lost outright.

This quatrain is translated from O. 2.

If I talk of the mystery with Thee in a tavern, It is better than if I make my devotions before the Mihrab without Thee. O Thou, the first and last of all created beings, Burn me an Thou wilt, cherish me an Thou wilt.

Ref.: O. 2, C. 272, L. 427, B. 423, S.P. 221, P. 7, B. ii. 294, T. 172.--W. 262, N. 222, V. 465.