Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam Part 7

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!

XXVII

Alike for those who for TO-DAY prepare, And those that after some TO-MORROW stare, A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries, "Fools! your Reward is neither Here nor There."

XXVIII

Another Voice, when I am sleeping, cries, "The Flower should open with the Morning skies."

And a retreating Whisper, as I wake-- "The Flower that once has blown for ever dies."

XXIX

Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust Like foolish Prophets forth; their Words to Scorn Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.

x.x.x

Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument About it and about: but evermore Came out by the same door as in I went.

x.x.xI

With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with my 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."

x.x.xII

Into this Universe, and _Why_ not knowing, Nor _Whence_, like Water w.i.l.l.y-nilly flowing; And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, I know not _Whither_, w.i.l.l.y-nilly blowing.

x.x.xIII

What, without asking, hither hurried _Whence?_ And, without asking, _Whither_ hurried hence!

Ah! contrite Heav'n endowed us with the Vine To drug the memory of that insolence!

x.x.xIV

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.

x.x.xV

There was the Door to which I found no Key: There was the Veil through which I could not see: Some little talk awhile of ME and THEE There was--and then no more of THEE and ME.

x.x.xVI

Earth could not answer: nor the Seas that mourn In flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn; Nor Heaven, with those eternal Signs reveal'd And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn.

x.x.xVII

Then of the THEE IN ME who works behind The Veil of Universe I cried to find A Lamp to guide me through the Darkness; and Something then said--"An Understanding blind."

x.x.xVIII

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."

x.x.xIX

I think the Vessel, that with fugitive Articulation answer'd, once did live, And drink; and that impa.s.sive Lip I kiss'd, How many Kisses might it take--and give!

XL

For I remember stopping by the way To watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay: And with its all-obliterated Tongue It murmur'd--"Gently, Brother, gently, pray!"

XLI

For has not such a Story from of Old Down Man's successive generations roll'd Of such a clod of saturated Earth Cast by the Maker into Human mould?

XLII

And not a drop that from our Cups we throw On the parcht herbage but may steal below To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye There hidden--far beneath, and long ago.

XLIII

As then the Tulip for her wonted sup Of Heavenly Vintage lifts her chalice up, Do you, twin offspring of the soil, till Heav'n To Earth invert you like an empty Cup.

XLIV

Do you, within your little hour of Grace, The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace, Before the Mother back into her arms Fold, and dissolve you in a last embrace.

[Ill.u.s.tration: QUATRAIN XX p. 90

[_Second Edition of the Translation_]