The Sufistic Quatrains Of Omar Khayyam - LightNovelsOnl.com
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_Ref._: C. 412, L. 619, B. 611, P. 116, B. ii. 444, P. v. 121.--V. 666.
XLIII.
So when that Angel of the darker Drink At last shall find you by the river-brink, And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul Forth to your Lips to quaff--you shall not shrink.
This quatrain owes its origin to C. 256.[53]
In the circle of the firmament, whose depths are invisible, There is a cup which, in due time, they will cause all to drink; When thy turn comes, do not utter lamentations, Drink wine gaily for it has come to be thy turn.
_Ref._: C. 256, L. 408, B. 404, B. ii. 273.--W. 254, V. 431.
XLIV.
Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside, And naked on the Air of Heaven ride, Were't not a Shame--were't not a Shame for him In this clay carcase crippled to abide?
This quatrain is translated from O. 145.
Oh Soul! if thou canst purify thyself from the dust of the body, Thou, naked spirit, canst soar in the heavens, The Empyrean is thy sphere--let it be thy shame, That thou comest and art a dweller within the confines of earth.[54]
_Ref._: O. 145, C. 447, L. 707, B. 697, S.P. 389, P. 111, B. ii.
523.--W. 436, N. 394, E.C. 7, V. 759.
XLV.
'Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest; The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest.
This quatrain is translated from C. no. 110.
Khayyam! thy body surely resembles a tent; The soul is a Sultan and the halting-place is the perishable world, The ferrash of fate, preparing for the next halting-place, Will overthrow this tent when the Sultan has arisen.[55]
_Ref._: C. 110, L. 100, B. 96, S.P. 80, B. ii. 95, T. 86, P. v. 172.--W.
82, N. 80, V. 100.
XLVI.*
And fear not lest Existence closing your Account, and mine, should know the like no more; The Eternal Saki from that Bowl has pour'd Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour.
FitzGerald was indebted for this quatrain to N. 137. The original ruba'i is not in O. or C.
Khayyam! although the pavilion of heaven Has spread its tent and closed the door upon all discussion, In the goblet of existence, like bubbles of wine The Eternal Saki brings to light a thousand Khayyams.
_Ref._: N. 137,[56] W. 161, V. 397.
XLVII.*
When You and I behind the Veil are past, Oh, but the long, long while the World shall last, Which of our Coming and Departure heeds As the Sea's self should heed a pebble-cast.
In this quatrain FitzGerald is reminded of O. 26 and 51 by N. 123.
Know this--that from thy soul thou shalt be separated, Thou shalt pa.s.s behind the Curtain of the Secrets of G.o.d.
_Ref._: O. 26, C. 83, L. 192, B. 189, S.P. 85, B. ii. 110, T. 64, P. v.
J 34.--W. 87, N. 85, V. 188.
My coming was of no profit to the heavenly sphere,[57]
And by my departure nothing will be added to its beauty and dignity.
_Ref._: O. 51, C. 129, L. 232, B. 229, S.P. 157, P. 55, B. ii. 158, T.
104.--W. 176, N. 157, E.C. 17, V. 239.
Oh! how long we shall be no more, and the world will continue to exist, It will continue to exist without fame or sign of us, Long ago we existed not, and (the world) was none the worse for it, Afterwards, when we have ceased to exist, it will be all the same.
_Ref._: N. 123, W. 150, V. 395.
XLVIII.
A Moment's Halt--a momentary taste Of BEING from the Well amidst the waste-- And Lo!--the phantom Caravan has reach'd The NOTHING it set out from--Oh, make haste!
We must consider here the form in which this quatrain first made its appearance in the edition of 1859:
One Moment in Annihilation's Waste, One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste-- The stars are setting, and the Caravan Starts for the Dawn of Nothing--Oh, make haste!
The inspiration for this richly varied quatrain comes from O. 60.
This caravan of life pa.s.ses by mysteriously; Mayest thou seize the moment that pa.s.ses happily!
Cup-bearer, why grieve about the to-morrow of thy patrons?[58]
Give us a cup of wine, for the night wanes.
_Ref._: O. 60, C. 135, L. 245, B. 242, P. 223, S.P. 106, B. ii. 146, T.
139.--W. 136, N. 106, V. 251.
Ll. 3 and 4 of C. 368 may also be quoted:
(Man is) a toil-stricken being, fas.h.i.+oned in the clay of affliction, He tasted of Earth for a time and pa.s.sed away.
_Ref._: C. 368, L. 566, B. 559, S.P. 301, B. ii. 404, T. 242.--W. 338, N. 302, V. 606.
XLIX.*
Would you that spangle of Existence spend About THE SECRET--quick about it, Friend!
A Hair perhaps divides the False and True-- And upon what, prithee, may life depend?