January 15th– “Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam of Nishapur” by Edward Fitzgerald

 Iranian Piano

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January 15th– “Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam of Nishapur” by Edward Fitzgerald

Summary: I don't even know, man.

Commentary: I was a little confused by this one at first. I thought Omar Khayyam was the author, but it was in the English poets section. I don't think there are that many Anglo-Arabian poets in the 18th and 19th century. Surprise, it's actually Edward Fitzgerald! Except it's actually a translation! (Not really well noted in the original text). Omar Khayyam was a real person, though it's not confirmed he actually wrote the poems. It's apparently not a particularly accurate translation, but more of an adaptation. The whole thing is kind of convoluted. 

    Overall, the poems were fun. I think they're trading heavily on "exoticness" in the time, but it was an enjoyable enough read. A few are pithy, a few are quotable, etc. I think they'd be more enjoyable reading one or two at a time than fifty-plus in one sitting. Maybe another year's challenge. 

    Today, this feels like the kind of thing that you'd see as an in-universe text in another story. There's that one character that has a Rubaiyat quote for everything. Half way through, they find out it's not even a real book and/or they've been misquoting it all along.

    Anyway, here's a few that I enjoyed:

X

Well, let it take them! What have we to do
With Kaikobád the Great, or Kaikhosrú?
Let Rustum cry “To Battle!” as he likes,
Or Hátim Tai “To supper!”—heed not you.

XXXIV

Up from Earth’s Centre through the Seventh Gate
I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate;
And many Knots unravel’d by the Road;
But not the Master-knot of Human Fate.

XXXVIII

Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn

I lean’d, the secret Well of Life to learn:

And Lip to Lip it murmur’d—“While you live,

Drink!—for, once dead, you never shall return.”

LX

And lately, by the Tavern Door agape,

Came shining through the Dusk an Angel Shape

Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and

He bid me taste of it; and ’twas—the Grape.

LXXX

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.