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 Copyright, 1896, 
 By Joseph Knight Company. 
 
 SSnibcrsitg $3rrss: 
 John Wilson and Son, Cambridge, U.S.A.
 
 RUBAIYAT TO OMAR KHAYYAM* 
 
 O Persian OMAR! -would thou -wert alive again! 
 Then might -we surely see thee strive again 
 To gather from the bitter flowers of Fate 
 Sweet honey for our human hive again ! 
 
 The stars still shine as once they brightly shone, 
 When, as they watched thy terrace, nightly shone 
 
 The answering flashes of thy love and hate, 
 And red gleams of the -wine-cup lightly shone ! 
 
 The blood-red petals from the roses fall, as then they did, 
 Death for us moderns like-wise closes all, as then it did ; 
 We know not more than thou didst know of life-to-be : 
 The ruthless Wheel of Heaven disposes all, as then it did. 
 
 But thy example makes us brave to face our Fate: 
 There may be Love beyond the grave to grace our Fate, 
 
 And we, mean-while, -will keep alive the glcnu of life, to be 
 Worth saving, if great ALLAH deign to save, to grace our Fate. 
 
 And so accept this volume as a meed of praise, 
 
 Alt ho thy Fame, so stablished, hath no need of praise, 
 
 And thou thyself art very far away from its — 
 So far, thou \l'st not take heed of blame or heed of praise. 
 
 A score of zealous poets have translated thee 
 
 In tongues unheard of -when the Mollahs hated thee, 
 
 And no-w accept their tribute, and this lay from us 
 For whom thy living words have re-created thee ! 
 
 * In the complicated rimes of these quatrains there is an attempt to 
 imitate the Persian style.
 
 CONTENTS OF VOLUME I. 
 
 Page 
 Introduction : 
 
 Sketch of Dr. Hyde x 
 
 " Sir Gore Ouseley xi 
 
 " Joseph Freiherr von Purgstall .... xiv 
 
 " Friedrich Riickert xv 
 
 " Professor Cowell xvi 
 
 Professor CowelPs Article .... xviii-xxxii, cxxxiv-cxliii 
 
 Sketch of Edward FitzGerald xxxiii-lxi 
 
 Account of FitzGerald's First Version and Later 
 
 Variants xlvii-li 
 
 Lord Tennyson's Poem to FitzGerald lx 
 
 The Rev. Mr. Plumtre's Comparison of Koheleth 
 
 and Omar l.xvii 
 
 Sketch of Bodenstedt lxxiv 
 
 " Graf von Schack lxxvi 
 
 Other Translators lxxviii-lxxxii 
 
 Mrs. Cadell's Article on Omar lxxxiii-xcix 
 
 C. J. Pickering's " 'Umar of Nîshâpûr " .... xcix-cxxii 
 
 Omar Khayyam, the Astronomer-Poet of Persia cxxxiii-clvi 
 
 RubAiyät of Omar Khayyam of NaishApür from 
 
 FitzGerald's Second Edition, 1868 .... clvii-clxxix 
 
 RubAiyät of Omar Khayyam of NaishApur, Com- 
 parative Versions 1--03
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 OMAR AND HIS TRANSLATORS. 
 
 I. 
 
 England, which, through the genius of Edward 
 FitzGerald, may claim to have raised the fame of 
 Omar the Tentmaker to a degree which the old 
 poet never enjoyed even in his native land, may 
 also have precedence in having brought him into 
 notice. As early as the seventeenth century Dr. 
 Thomas Hyde devoted some space in his monu- 
 mental work on the " Religion of the Ancient 
 Persians " to the life and works of Omar. His Dr. Hyde's 
 knowledge of Persian, acquired at an age when Latil1 
 most boys would be thinking only of athletic sports, version 
 was so perfect that on the death of King William, 
 whose Court Interpreter he had been, he composed 
 an elegy in that language in thirteen distichs, printed 
 in ancient characters, for which the types were 
 expressly made. Dr. Hyde has the distinction of 
 being the first European translator of Omar's 
 poetry. This pioneer in the flowery fields of Ori- 
 ental literature deserves a few words of remem- 
 brance.
 
 Introduction. 
 
 Dr. Hyde's 
 
 brilliant 
 
 career 
 
 His 
 learning 
 
 The Rev. Thomas Hyde, D.D., was born at 
 Billingsley in June, 1636. Under the tuition of 
 his father, who was rector of the place, he began 
 the Oriental studies for which he became distin- 
 guished. In his sixteenth year he entered King's 
 College, Cambridge, and made such progress in the 
 Oriental languages under Wheelock that he was 
 called to London to assist Brian Walton in pre- 
 paring his great polyglot Bible. His work was 
 that of correcting the Arabic, Persian, and Syriac 
 texts, and he performed the almost miraculous task 
 of transcribing into Persian characters the Per- 
 sian translation of the Pentateuch which had been 
 printed in Hebrew letters in Constantinople in 1546. 
 He also appended the Latin version which is in- 
 cluded in that monumental work. In 1658 he en- 
 tered Queen's College, Oxford, and was appointed 
 Hebrew reader. The following year, as a compli- 
 ment for his extraordinary accomplishments, he 
 was granted the degree of M. A. He was also 
 made under-keeper of the Bodleian Library, and 
 in 1665, chief librarian. In 1666 he was prebendary 
 of old Sarum, and in 167S arch-deacon of Glouces- 
 ter. In 1691 he became professor of Arabic, and 
 six years later Regius professor of Hebrew. He 
 was secretary and interpreter to Charles II. and 
 his two successors. He knew not only Persian 
 and Hebrew, but also Turkish, Arabic, and even 
 Chinese and Malay. He was one of the most 
 learned men of his day, and his " Veterum Persarum 
 Religio," though somewhat vitiated by his too great 
 reliance on Oriental authorities, is still valuable.
 
 Introduction. xi 
 
 He resigned liis librarianship in 1701, and died in 
 
 I703- 
 
 One or two quatrains turned into Arabic ante- 
 date his: these, in M. Woepcke's French prose 
 version, in Pickering's verse translation, and in 
 the original Latin of Dr. Hyde, are reprinted in 
 the Bibliography. 
 
 Not long after Hyde was electrifying the learned 
 world by his display of genius, the attention of 
 English people was strongly attracted to the Orient, 
 not only by the vigorous policy of the East India 
 Company, which was then laying the foundations 
 of England's splendid empire in the East, but also 
 by the first translation of the " Arabian Nights," 
 which opened a new world of imagination, the 
 reflection of which may be recognized in such 
 works as Addison's "Vision of Mirza"and Dr. 
 Johnson's "Rasselas." The East from this time 
 forth tempted many ambitious young Englishmen 
 to seek fame and fortune. 
 
 Among those who succeeded most brilliantly Sir Gore 
 was Sir Gore Ouseley, son of Ralph Ouseley, a Ouseley 
 gentleman of aristocratic lineage, and his wife, 
 Elizabeth Holland. Gore Ouseley, in 1787, at the 
 early age of seventeen, went to India, where he 
 was introduced to the celebrated Oriental scholar, 
 Sir William Jones. 
 
 A few years later, in 1792, he wrote his brother 
 William that he was studying Persian, and had in 
 less than five months made such progress that he 
 could read and write it with tolerable facility. He 
 became the friend and adviser of the Nabob of
 
 Introduction. 
 
 The first 
 English 
 translation 
 of Omar 
 
 Persian 
 poetry- 
 
 Sir William 
 Ouseley 
 
 Oude, and acquitted himself in very delicate and 
 critical circumstances with such discretion that 
 his services were rewarded in 1810 by the offer 
 of the high dignity of Ambassador Extraordinary 
 and Plenipotentiary to the Shah. No one had 
 served at the Persian court in that capacity since 
 1628. Here again his delicate tact and his perfect 
 knowledge of Eastern etiquette, as well as his 
 fluency in spoken Persian, enabled him to accom- 
 plish important political ends. He dared to brave 
 the arbitrary eccentricities of that fierce monarch, 
 Futteh Ali, and fully won his respect and admi- 
 ration. He returned to England by the way of 
 Russia, where he received the most nattering at- 
 tentions from the Emperor Alexander I. He died 
 in 1844. Sir Gore Ouseley made a few translations 
 from Oriental authors, and two years after his death 
 a memorial of him was published containing his 
 " Biographical Notices of the Persian Poets, with 
 Critical and Explanatory Remarks," together with 
 an interesting sketch of his life, and extracts from 
 many letters. Sir Gore Ouseley seems to be the 
 first who ever translated any of Omar Khayyam's 
 poems into English. Toward the end of the memo- 
 rial volume are collected a number of proverbs and 
 aphorisms. Two of them are from Omar. 
 
 Sir Gore Ouseley wrote that he considered Persian 
 poetry "rich in elegancies, moral and entertaining, 
 replete with sublime though fanciful imaginations, 
 and faulty alone in its extreme floweriness." 
 
 His brother, Sir William Ouseley, also turned his 
 attention to Oriental literature, and before he went
 
 Introduction. xiii 
 
 to Persia as Sir Gore's secretary he had published 
 (in 1 795) a large quarto volume entitled " Persian 
 Miscellanies," a work followed during 1797-S by 
 a sort of journal entitled "The Oriental Collec- 
 tion," to which Sir Gore Ouseley, an accomplished 
 musician, contributed curious articles on Kastern 
 music and instruments. Sir William began a 
 series of papers modestly called " A Sketch of an 
 Essay on the Lyrical Poetry of the Persians." It 
 remained unfinished, and Omar's name is not men- 
 tioned in it; but he translates what he describes Jami and 
 as a Bacchanalian sonnet by Jami, which has a O mar 
 decided resemblance to some of Omar's wine 
 Rubâiyàt : — 
 
 " We are of infamous character — outlaws and dis- 
 graced in the opinion of Society. O you who are 
 honest and chaste, shun our society." [Compare 
 Rubâ'iy XCIIL] 
 
 Sir William had not the highest opinion of 
 Oriental poetry: The poet, he says, "sometimes 
 aspires to celebrate his Creator in lofty and ani- 
 mated verse. But that the Persian lyre is in 
 reality ever tuned to such exalted strains I cannot 
 venter [sic] to assert; it is much to be feared 
 that the strings, relaxed from too frequent tink- 
 ling in the concert of unhallowed mirth, would but 
 feebly vibrate in the solemn symphony of devotion." 
 
 "The seven masters of the Persian Parnassus," Emerson 
 says Ralph Waldo Emerson in his brief essay on an d Baron 
 Persian Poetry, " have ceased to be empty names." von Ham ~ 
 He did not include Omar Khayyam in the shining
 
 Von 
 
 Hammer- 
 Purgstall 
 
 xiv Introduction. 
 
 Seven, but he hastens to add that Attâr and he 
 "promise to rise in Western estimation." 
 
 When Emerson wrote these words his knowledge 
 of Persian poetry was principally derived from the 
 German translations of Joseph Hammer, afterwards 
 known as Baron von Hammer-Purgstall, who with 
 vast industry, and with characteristic German learn- 
 ing, gave his countrymen specimens of some two 
 hundred of the Persian poets. 
 
 Joseph Freiherr von Hammer-Purgstall was born 
 June 9, 1774, at Graz in Steiermark, where his 
 father was Gubernialrat. He studied at Vienna 
 at the Oriental Akademie founded by Prince 
 Kaunitz. Freiherr von Thugut singled the boy 
 out for his capacity, already shown in the assist- 
 ance which he had rendered in the preparation of 
 Meninski's Lexicon of Arabic, Turkish, and Per- 
 sian. In 1796 he was a secretary in the Ministry 
 of Foreign Affairs, and three years later was sent 
 to Constantinople as so called Sprachknabe under 
 Freiherr von Herbert, who was trying to found a 
 great trade with the Orient. During the Egyptian 
 troubles, when the French were driven from the 
 Nile, young Hammer served there as interpreter, 
 and on his return visited England. In 1802 he was 
 Secretary of Legation at Constantinople, and four 
 years later consular agent in Moldavia. In 181 1 
 he was made Actualrat and Court Interpreter. In 
 1835 he inherited the estates of the Gräfin von 
 Purgstall, whose name he added to his own, and 
 was raised to the nobility. In 1847 he was elected 
 President of the new Academy, a position which
 
 Introduction. xv 
 
 he held only two years. He died in 1856. The 
 volume of die "Calcutta Review" which contains 
 Professor Cowell's illuminating article on Omar 
 Khayyam has a letter from Baron von Hammer- 
 Purgstall's daughter, giving an account of lier 
 father's last days. He was one of the greatest 
 Orientalists who ever lived ; but unfortunately his 
 poetical skill was not equal either to his learning 
 or to his industry, and his works, forming a colossal 
 library in themselves, are left only to industrious 
 book-worms. 
 
 Such a large and expensive tome as his "History 
 of Persian Belles Lettres"' could hardly have become 
 popular, and readers might easily have passed with 
 indifference the few quatrains which he translated 
 from Omar, hidden as they were under the brighter 
 radiance of Firdusi, Hafiz, and Sadi, whose works 
 were comparatively familiar. 
 
 A few years later, in the fortieth volume of the Friedrich 
 Vienna "Jahrbücher der Literatur," being the Rückert 
 last quarterly number for 1827, appeared a still 
 more obscure reference to Omar Khayyam. Dr. 
 Friedrich Rückert, whose merits as a poet are 
 scarcely recognized as they deserve, contributed 
 an exceedingly learned paper, treating, among other 
 matters, of the proper transliteration of Persian 
 words, and particularly of the various metres em- 
 ployed by the Persian poets. To illustrate the 
 Rubd'iji terâne, or Ruba'iy of Song, which he 
 declares excels in freedom any other form of 
 Persian verse, he gives a transcription and literal 
 version of two of Omar Khayyam's quatrains.
 
 xvi Introduction. 
 
 He begins his article with a pleasant tribute to his 
 highly honored patron and master in Persian, — sein 
 hochverehrter Conner und Meister im Persischen." 
 It was reprinted in Gotha, in 1874, with the title, 
 " Grammatik, Poetik und Rhetorik der Perser," 
 under the editorship of W. Pertsch. The tran- 
 scriptions from Omar, together with the specimens 
 which Emerson translated from Hammer-Purgstall, 
 will be found in the Bibliography. 
 Professor While Joseph Hammer and Dr. Riickert were 
 
 Cowell working in collaboration in Vienna, Ipswich, Eng- 
 
 land, saw ushered into the world an infant who 
 was to be, as it were, the John the Baptist of the 
 Omar Khayyam cult. This was Edward Byles 
 Cowell. He was born January 23, 1826; he at- 
 tended the town grammar school, and Magdalen 
 Hall, Oxford. In January, 1848, FitzGerald wrote 
 him : " Ten years ago I might have been vext 
 to see you striding along in Sanskrit and Persian 
 so fast ; reading so much ; remembering all ; writ- 
 ing about it so well." He predicted that, if Cowell 
 lived, he would be one of the most learned men of 
 England. He took his B. A. degree in classics in 
 1854. He it was who inspired Edward FitzGerald 
 with his love for Persian literature, and was his 
 teacher. In 1856 he was called to Calcutta as 
 Professor of History at the Presidency College, 
 and was shortly afterwards elected also Principal 
 of the Sanskrit College. He returned to England 
 in 1864, was appointed Professor of Sanskrit at 
 Cambridge, and in 1874 was made a Fellow of 
 Corpus Christi College. His published writings
 
 Introduction. xvii 
 
 are chiefly on Sanskrit subjects; but in 1S54 he Cowell's 
 printed, in " Fraser's Magazine," some prose trans- writin g s 
 lations of Hafiz. FitzGerald thought that he gave 
 the Persian too much credit for a mystical wine-cup 
 and Cup-bearer. A few years later, while in India, 
 Professor Cowell contributed to the " Calcutta 
 Review " a long article containing a number of 
 metrical versions of Omar Khayyam's poems. 
 They are for the most part unrhymed. Fitz- 
 Gerald introduced the biographical portion of this 
 article into the preface to his translation, with cer- 
 tain unacknowledged changes, and without men- 
 tioning the author's name, nor did he intimate that 
 Professor Cowell had anticipated him in making the 
 first extended exposition of Omar's poetry. 
 
 But in a letter quoted a little further down he ex- 
 plains this omission. Nevertheless, it seems rather 
 odd that he should have made no reference to them, 
 although they must have been of great help to him 
 in preparing his version. The fact that the article 
 was signed shows conclusively that FitzGerald was 
 quite too scrupulous in hiding from the public his 
 friend's great services, and there is no reason to 
 think that Professor Cowell would not have been 
 pleased to consent to his just title of being if not 
 the discoverer or the pioneer, yet certainly the 
 first English surveyor and purveyor of a wonder- 
 fully fertile and picturesque island in the Sea of 
 Unknown Literature. Cowell evidently took Omar 
 far too seriously, and did not approve of him ; but 
 still his views are extremely suggestive, and his 
 work deserves recognition.
 
 xviii Introduction. 
 
 A deserved No one has apparently had sufficient curiosity to 
 atonement delve j n to the forgotten volumes of that out-of-the- 
 way journal, and the translated quatrains are here 
 for the first time reproduced. All readers of Omar 
 will be interested to compare the Cowell versions 
 with FitzGerald's. To place them in this promi- 
 nence is only a fitting atonement for the neglect 
 from which it has hitherto been their fortune to 
 suffer. 
 
 " Omar Khayyam's poems are unique in the literary 
 history of the world. It is not often that a great 
 mathematician indulges in the relaxation of verse; 
 one remembers Sir Isaac Newton's scorn of 'spoilt 
 prose,' and is apt to think of Urania as somewhat shy 
 Science and of familiar intercourse with her sisters. But in Omar 
 Poetry we have not only an example of the perfect compati- 
 
 bility of the severest studies in the exact sciences with 
 that play of fancy and delicacy of feeling which we 
 associate with the poet; this is by no means all the 
 marvel. We find in his verses a totally different char- 
 acter to that which we should have naturally expected 
 from the prevailing habit of thought in which he lived. 
 Our ' double-natured poet ' is a Janus, whose two 
 heads bear no similarity; the one half of his life and 
 experience contradicts the other. 
 
 " Was it that melancholy temperament, which Aris- 
 totle of old attributed to all poets and mathematicians, 
 being thus doubled in intensity by this twofold liabil- 
 ity, found its full utterance in these bitter tetrastichs, — 
 turning for a while from its exact and abstract studies, 
 with all their unreal truth, 
 
 1 Distinct but distant, clear but oh ! how cold,'
 
 Introduction. xix 
 
 only to find in life and time enigmas still more puzzling, 
 and problems still more indeterminate, and uttering in 
 these lines its sullen protest of weariness? 
 
 'From the centre of earth to the Zenith of Saturn, 
 I solved all the problems of the heavens, 
 I leaped forth from the bonds of every snare and 
 
 deceit, 
 And every bond was unloosed except the bond of 
 
 Death.' [R. XXXI, p. 62.] 
 
 Every other poet of Persia has written too much. — Omar's 
 even her noblest sons of genius weary with their pro- conciseness 
 lixity. The language has a fatal facility of rhyme, 
 which makes it easier to write in verse than in prose, 
 and every author heaps volumes on volumes, until he 
 buries himself and his reader beneath their weight. 
 Our mathematician is the one solitary exception. He 
 has fewer lines than Gray. 
 
 " This little volume of tetrastichs, be their real num- 
 ber what they may, occupies its own niche in Persian 
 literature. For terseness of expression and vigour of 
 thought, we know of no epigrams like them, even in 
 the Greek anthology ; while for passionate earnestness 
 and concentrated sadness, there is nothing equal to 
 them, except Lucretius. The Epicurean views which 
 pervade them, but add a deeper gloom to the melan- 
 choly; we know that the gayety is unreal, and the 
 poet's smile is but a risus sardonicus of despair. 
 
 " All things whisper in his ear of change and decay. 
 The sad refrain rings ever in his hearing; everywhere 
 in the world he reads the record of the inscription 
 which Solomon, in Eastern story, gave for a signet ring, 
 when one asked him for a motto which would suit alike 
 prosperity and adversity, — ' This also shall pass away ! '
 
 XX 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 1 Since life is all passing, what matter Bagdad or Balkh ? 
 If our cup be full, what matter bitter or sweet ? 
 Drink wine, — for long after thee and me, yon moon 
 Will still fill to its full, and still waste to its wane.' 
 
 [VIII, p. 1 6.] 
 
 Or this : — 
 
 ' Yon rolling heaven for our destruction, yours and 
 mine, 
 Aims its stroke at our lives, yours and mine ; 
 Come, love, sit on the grass, — it will not be long 
 Ere grass grows out of our dust, yours and mine.' 
 
 [XXIV, p. 48.] 
 
 Corporeal " This law (if one might call it so) of corporeal trans- 
 
 transmi- migration occurs again and again in his poems ; it 
 
 gration seems to jar on the poet's inmost soul, and give him a 
 
 peculiar pang. Elsewhere he has it in a more general 
 
 shape : — 
 
 ' Wheresoever is rose or tulip-bed, 
 Its redness comes from the blood of kings ; 
 Every violet stalk that springs from the earth, 
 Was once a mole on a loved one's cheek.' 
 
 [XIX, p. 38.] 
 
 " In this form the thought is not peculiar to the East ; 
 we find a very similar passage in one of Shelley's 
 poems : — 
 
 ' There's not one atom of yon earth 
 
 But once was living man ; 
 Nor the minutest drop of rain, 
 That hangeth in its thinnest cloud, 
 
 But flowed in human vein.'
 
 Introduction. xxi 
 
 " We will add one more of this class of tetrastichs, 
 before we pass on to others; in this there is a peculiar 
 delicacy of touch, which softens the roughness of the 
 original thought : — 
 
 ' This flask was once a poor lover like me, 
 All immersed in the chase of a fair face; 
 And this its handle you see on its neck 
 Was once a hand that clasped a beloved.' 
 
 [XXXVI, p. 7 2.] 
 
 " The extracts which we have already quoted, will Omar no 
 give our readers an idea of Omar's poetry ; and per- mystic 
 haps they will, ere this, have recognized one of its 
 peculiar features. Omar lived in an age of poetical 
 mysticism, but he himself is no mystic. His exact 
 sciences kept him from the vague dreams of his con- 
 temporaries ; he never loses himself in the one and the 
 all; he plants his foot on the terra firma of to-day, and 
 builds on it as if it were a rock, and not a quicksand: 
 
 ' Sweet blows on the rose's face the breeze of the new 
 
 spring, 
 Sweet down in the garden are the faces of the heart 
 
 inflamers ; 
 But nought is sweet that thou canst tell of a yesterday 
 
 passed ; 
 Come be glad, nor talk of yesterday, — to-day is so 
 
 sweet.' [Compare Whitley Stokes, XV.] 
 
 " But Omar, for all his insight, had not made the wiser 
 choice. The mysticism, in which the better spirits of 
 Persia loved to lose themselves, was a higher thing, 
 after all, than his keen worldliness ; because this was 
 but of the earth, and bounded by the earth's narrow 
 span, while that, albeit an error, was a groping after
 
 Vague 
 
 mysticism 
 
 better than 
 
 Omar's 
 
 worldly 
 
 science 
 
 xxii Introduction. 
 
 the divine. There was a depth in that vague mysticism 
 which Omar's science had never sounded ; it sprang 
 from wants and feelings to which his own heart was 
 a stranger; and hence, though his poetry was real, and 
 full of passion, it moves ' cabined, cribbed, confined ' 
 in the animal life of the senses, and seems dazzled at 
 any prospect beyond the grave. His very ideas of 
 death seemed confined to the body ; he can feel, like 
 Keats, ' the flowers growing over him ; ' but he rarely 
 looks or thinks beyond. And yet it is not always so ; 
 a few rare tetrastichs testify that Omar could not 
 always prove a traitor to his own genius, — that some- 
 times it overmastered his habits, and wrung unwonted 
 aspirations perforce from his lips : — 
 
 ' Oh heart, wert thou pure from the body's dust, 
 Thou shouldst soar naked spirit above the sky ; 
 Highest heaven is thy native seat, — for shame, for 
 
 shame, 
 That thou shouldst stoop to dwell in a city of clay ! ' 
 
 [XLIV, p. 88.] 
 
 The cause of " No wonder that gloom overshadows all Omar Khay- 
 his dissatis- yam's poetry ; he was false to his better self, and there- 
 faction fore ill at ease and sad. He was resolved to ignore 
 the future and the spiritual, and anchor only by the 
 material and tangible ; but his very insight became 
 blinded and misled him, and instead of something solid 
 and satisfying, he grasped only a ' darkness that could 
 be felt? We can trace the evil, running like a canker 
 through his life ; his pleasures, his friendships, — nay, 
 his very studies became blighted under its touch. 
 
 " Bernouilli could find such an intense delight in his 
 problems that he could say that they gave him some 
 idea of the happiness of heaven ; his faculties were
 
 Introduction. xxiii 
 
 working unrestrained towards their proper object; and 
 
 pleasure, old philosophers tell us, supervenes on such 
 
 harmonious action, as a finish or bloom. But in ( >mur No internal 
 
 there was no such internal harmony ; the diviner part harmony 
 
 within him was ignored; and hence the very studies 
 
 in which his life was spent, failed to yield him solid 
 
 enjoyment. 
 
 " Had he been only a thoughtless Epicurean, we 
 should have looked at his poetry in a very different light. 
 The careless gayety of Horace never loses its charm, for 
 it was the spontaneous outburst of his nature. Ile 
 floated on life's surface, with no deep passion for any- 
 thing, and his poetry bears the true impress of his 
 character. But in Omar there was a resolute will, — 
 he was deeply earnest in science; and to dally with 
 doubt and Epicureanism was possible only where he 
 was not in earnest. It was this which caused the 
 moral jar in his character, and hence his poetry reads 
 to us — 
 
 ' Like sweet bells jangled, out of tune and harsh.' 
 
 "We have said that Omar was no mystic, — we find Omar's 
 no trace of Sufeyism in his book. His roses bloom in tone of 
 an earthly summer, his wine is of mortal vintage; un- revelry nor. 
 like all other Persian poets, everything with him is real assumed 
 and concrete. That tone of revelry which in Hdfiz and 
 Jami was but a passing fashion, under which their 
 genius veiled its higher aspirations, — like the Pe- 
 trarchan sonnet in the hands of Shakespeare or Milton, 
 — is in Omar Khayyam the matter itself, not the form. 
 He turns in these quatrains from his science and astron- 
 omy to drown thought in the passing moment's pleas- 
 ures ; he seems to forget his better self in his temporary 
 Epicurean disguise: —
 
 xxiv Introduction. 
 
 '• My coming was not of mine own design, 
 And one day I must go, and no choice of mine; 
 
 Come, light-handed cupbearer, gird thee to serve, 
 We must wash down the care of this world with wine. 
 
 • Come bring me that ruby in yon crystal cup, 
 That true friend and brother of every open heart ; 
 
 Thou knowest too well that this life on earth 
 Is a wind that hurries by, — bring the wine. 
 
 [XXIX, p. 58.] 
 
 ' Since none can promise himself to-morrow, 
 Make that forlorn heart of thine glad today; 
 
 Drink wine, fair moon-faced, by the light of yon 
 moon, 
 For oft shall it look for us and find us not. 
 
 [C, p. 194.] 
 
 'What though the wine rends my veil, 
 While I live, I will never tear me away ; 
 
 I marvel much at the sellers of wine, 
 For what better thing can they buy than what they 
 sell? [XCV, p. 1S4.] 
 
 'The caravan * of life hurries strangely by, 
 Seize every moment that passes in joy ; 
 
 Why, cupbearer, mourn for the morrow of thy 
 friends? 
 Give the cup of wine, for the night hurries by.' 
 
 [XLVIII, p. 96.] 
 
 * FitzGerald's note (No. 16) regarding '•' the phantom Cara- 
 van " was omitted from the third and subsequent editions. It 
 was short and unimportant : — 
 
 "The Caravan travelling by Night (after their New Year's 
 Day of the Vernal Equinox) by Command of Mohammed, 1 
 believe."
 
 Introduction. xxv 
 
 " A few of the tetrastichs breathe the same spirit of A spirit of 
 contentment which we should have expected from their content- 
 author's old reply to the vizier's invitations to power : — ment 
 
 ' Some ruby wine and a diwdn of poems, 
 A crust of bread to keep the breath in one's body, 
 
 And thou and I alone in a desert, — 
 Were a lot beyond a Sultan's throne. [XII, p. 24] 
 
 ' Of all the world my choice is two crusts and a corner, 
 I have severed my desires from power and its pomp ; 
 
 I have bought me poverty with heart and soul, 
 For I have found the true riches in poverty. 
 
 [XII, p. 24.] 
 
 ' Oh my heart, since life's reality is illusion, 
 Why vex thyself with its sorrows and cares ? 
 
 Commit thee to fate, contented with the hour, 
 For the pen, once passed, returns not back for thee ! ' 
 
 [LXXI, p. 138.] 
 
 " But in too many of his poems we find a settled 
 gloom, which stands in striking contrast to the assumed 
 carelessness. Omar is ill at ease within, and his in- Omar and 
 ternal discord reflects itself in an angry defiance of the Lucretius 
 world and its opinions and beliefs. Like the Roman 
 Lucretius, his very science leads him astray; he has 
 learned enough to unsettle his ancient instincts, but 
 not enough to rebuild them on a surer basis. In the 
 sublime poem of Lucretius, we see the inevitable battle 
 between the vague dreams of an obsolete mythology, 
 and the progressive certainties of physical science ; and 
 in the first intensity of the conflict, the iconoclasm ex-
 
 Introduction. 
 
 tends itself beyond the idols of the old belief, to the 
 The idea of very bases of belief itself within the soul. The arbi- 
 a First trary laws and tenets of the national creed are found at 
 
 Cause variance with the discoveries of science ; the idea of 
 
 'laws of nature' slowly evolves itself, in its sublime 
 simplicity and universality ; and the idle causes of 
 phenomena, which mythology had fabricated in the 
 personal caprices of certain deified abstractions, melt 
 away of themselves like shadows in the light of morn- 
 ing. But under all these erroneous figments, there lay 
 the primitive instinct of some first cause, — the obsti- 
 nate, unconquerable want which no created thing can 
 fill ; and this remained untouched amidst the change, 
 as the soul when the body was shattered. But this 
 Lucretius did not understand ; he proceeded from the 
 gods of mythology to demolish the very idea of a Prov- 
 idence at all. The very truth which he had grasped 
 so firmly, that nature obeys certain unvarying laws, led 
 him astray ; and it was a step reserved for a later time, 
 to see that this grand idea is by no means at variance 
 with the ancient instincts of the soul, — that the laws 
 of nature, like any other laws, must imply a law-giver's 
 The superi- sanction and authority, — and that long before Greek 
 ority of the or Roman science, in an unlettered people whose very 
 Hebrew name Greece and Rome despised, ancient seers had 
 
 recognized the scientific principle, and yet at once 
 subordinated it to the highest truth, when they sang 
 of man's impotence ' to break God's covenant of the 
 day and of the night, that there should not be day and 
 night in their season.' 
 Omar's " Omar Khayyam's scepticism seems to us to belong to 
 
 time an age a similar phase of mental history with that of Lucretius, 
 of darkness He lived in an age of religious darkness, and the very 
 men around him who most felt their wants and misery 
 had no power to satisfy or remove them. Amidst the
 
 Introduction. x.wii 
 
 religious feeling which might be at work, acting in 
 various and arbitrary directions, hypocrisy and worldli- 
 ness widely mingled; and everywhere pressed the un- 
 recognized but yet over-mastering reality, — that the 
 national creed was itself not based on the eternal 
 relations of things as fixed by the Creator. The re- 
 ligious fervour, therefore, when it betook itself to its 
 natural channel to flow in, — the religion of the people, 
 — found nothing to give it sure satisfaction; the inter- 
 nal void remained unfilled. Hence this fervour natu- The out- 
 rally turned to asceticism and mysticism ; the dervishes, come of 
 fakirs, and sufisofthe Mohammedan world have risen unsatisfied 
 by a law of the human mind; and we think that the religious 
 scepticism of Omar Khayyam, and similar writers, is f ervour 
 but the result of another similar law. The asceticism 
 and mysticism failed in their turn to give solid peace 
 to the inquirer, and they were soon overlaid by mum- 
 meries and deceits, — the earnest enthusiasts died and 
 their places were too often filled by impostors ; and 
 Omar Khayyam is the result of the inevitable re-action. Omar the 
 His tetrastichs are filled with bitter satires of the result of a 
 sensuality and hypocrisy of the pretenders to sanctity, reaction 
 but he did not stop there. He could see with a clear 
 eye the evil and folly of the charlatans and empirics ; 
 but he was blind, when he turned from these, to deny 
 the existence of the soul's disease, or, at any rate, the 
 possibility of a cure. Here, like Lucretius, he cut 
 himself loose from facts; and in both alike we trace 
 the unsatisfied instincts, — the dim conviction that their 
 wisdom is folly, — which reflect themselves in darker 
 colours in the misanthropy and despair, which cloud 
 their visions of life. 
 
 " Lucretius, when he resolved to follow his material 
 science to the last, whithersoever it would lead him, 
 built a system for himself in his poem, or rather acted
 
 xxviii Introduction. 
 
 as the exponent and interpreter of the Greek system, 
 The aim of which he had embraced. His poem on nature has a 
 Lucretius' professed practical aim, — to explain the world's self- 
 great poem acting machine to the polytheist, and disabuse him of 
 all spiritual ideas. Omar Khayyam builds no system, 
 — he contents himself with doubts and conjectures; 
 he loves to balance antitheses of belief, and settle him- 
 self in the equipoise of the sceptic (iiroxy)- Fate and 
 free will, with all their infinite ramifications and practi- 
 cal consequences ; the origin of evil; the difficulties of 
 evidence ; the immortality of the soul ; future retri- 
 bution, — all these questions recur again and again. 
 Omar gives Not that he throws any light on these world-old prob- 
 no light on lems ; he only puts them in a tangible form, conden- 
 world-old s ing all the bitterness in an epigram. Of this class we 
 questions subjoin two of the more harmless, — some of the most 
 daring are better left in their original Persian : — 
 
 1 1 am not the man to fear annihilation ; 
 That half forsooth is sweeter than this half which 
 we have; 
 This life of mine is entrusted as a loan, 
 And when pay-day comes, I will give it back. 
 
 [LXXIX, p, 154] 
 
 ' Heaven derived no profit from my coming hither, 
 And its glory is not increased by my going hence ; 
 
 Nor hath my ear ever heard from mortal man, — 
 This coming and going — why they are at all ? ' 
 
 " That Omar in his impiety was false to his better 
 knowledge, we may readily admit, while at the same 
 time we find some excuse for his errors, if we remember 
 the state of the world at that time. His clear, strong
 
 Introduction. x.xix 
 
 sense revolted from the prevailing mysticism, where all He detested 
 
 the earnest spirits of his age found their refuge, and sham and 
 his honest independence was equally shocked by the hypocrisy 
 hypocrites who aped their fervour and enthusiasm; 
 and at that dark hour of man's history, whither, out 
 of Islam, was the thoughtful Mohammedan to repair? 
 
 " No missionary's step, bringing good tidings, had ap- 
 peared on the mountains of Persia; the few Christians 
 who might cross his path in his native land, would only 
 seem to him idolaters; and even in Europe itself Chris 
 tianity lay stifled under an incubus of ignorance and 
 superstition ; Christendom came before Omar only in 
 the form of the First Crusade ! These things should 
 be borne in mind as we study Mohammedan literature. 
 While Arabian and Persian letters were in their glory, 
 Europe was buried in mediaeval darkness ; science and 
 learning were in their noon-tide splendour in Bagdad 
 and Cordova, while feudal barbarism brooded over 
 France and England. When we read such a life as The isola- 
 Sadi's, with its thirty years of adventure and travel, it tion of 
 is strange to mark how entirely the range of his experi- Persian 
 ence is confined to Asia and the Mohammedan world, literature 
 Almost the only one point of contact with Christendom 
 is his slavery under the Crusaders at Tripoli. The 
 same isolation runs through all the golden period of 
 Persian literature ; it was already fading into tasteless 
 effeminacy when the two Shelleys first found their way 
 to the court of Abbas the Great. We now proceed to Omar's 
 add a few of the more striking tetrastichs ; they will greatness 
 serve as further proofs of what we have remarked on as a poet 
 the author's singular position among the poets of his 
 country. 
 
 "None that we know of has written fewer lines, and in 
 none is there so large a proportion of good : — ■
 
 X.XX Introduction. 
 
 ' The spring-cloud came and wept bitterly over the 
 grass, 
 I cannot live without the arghuvân-coloured wine ; 
 This grass is our festal place today, 
 But the grass that grows from our dust, whose festal 
 place will it be ? [XXIII, p. 46.] 
 
 ' Ask not for empire, for life is a moment, 
 Every atom of dust was once a Kai-kobâd or Jam- 
 
 shid; 
 The story of the world and this whole life of ours 
 Is a dream and a vision, an illusion and a breath. 
 
 [IX, p. 18.] 
 
 ' When the nightingale raises his lament in the garden, 
 We must seize like a tulip, the wine in our hand, 
 Ere men, one to the other, in their foolish talk, 
 Say " such a one hath seized his cup and is gone ! " 
 
 ' That castle, in whose hall king Bahrain drained the 
 cup, 
 There the fox hath brought forth her young and the 
 
 lion made his lair, 
 Bahrâm who his life long seized the deer (gor) 
 See how the tomb (gor) has seized him today! 
 
 [XVIII, p. 36.] 
 
 1 By the running stream and the grass, cupbearer bright 
 
 as the lamp, 
 Give the wine, break thy vows, and touch the lute ; 
 Be glad, for the running stream lifts its voice, — ■ 
 " I am gone," it cries, " and shall never return ! "
 
 Introduction. xxxi 
 
 ■ Alas that the book of youth is folded, 
 And the fresh purple spring become December; 
 
 That bird of joy, whose name was youth, — 
 Alas I know not, how he came or is gone! 
 
 [XCVI, p. 1S6.] 
 
 ' lie glad, for the moon of the Keel will be here, 
 All the means of mirth will soon be well, — ■ 
 Pale is yon moon, its back bowed, and lean, 
 You would say it will soon sink in its sorrow. 
 
 [Last note, p. 175.] 
 
 ' Kip to lip I passionately kissed the bowl, 
 To learn from it the secret of length of days ; 
 Lip to lip in answer it whispered reply, 
 " Drink wine, for once gone thou shalt never return ! " 
 
 [XXXV, p. 70.] 
 
 ' I went last night into a potter's shop, 
 A thousand pots did I see there, noisy and silent ; 
 When suddenly one of the pots raised a cry, 
 " Where is the pot-maker, the pot-buyer, the pot- 
 seller ? " [LXXX VII, p. 168.] 
 
 In the view of reality, not of illusion, 
 We mortals are chess-men and fate is the player; 
 We each act our game on the board of life, 
 And then one by one are swept into the box ! 
 
 [KXIX, p. 134.] 
 
 ' Von rolling heavens, at which we gaze bewildered, 
 Are but the image of a magic lanthorn ; 
 The sun is the candle, the world the shade, 
 And we the images which flit therein. 
 
 [LXVIILp. 152.]
 
 Introduction. 
 
 The dirge 
 over a 
 wasted life 
 
 ' Last night I dashed my clay cup on the stone, 
 And at the reckless freak my heart was glad, 
 When with a voice for the moment out spake the cup, 
 " I was once as thou and thou shalt be as I !" ' 
 
 [App. XIV, Nicolas, 404, etc.] 
 
 " We would conclude with two more tetrastichs, which 
 may fitly close our imperfect sketch. Omar Khayyam, 
 we have said, was ill-at-ease and unhappy ; his tone of 
 revelry and enjoyment vainly masked the aching void 
 within, and where shall we find a more melancholy 
 dirge than the following over a wasted life, with its- 
 knowledge and genius ? — 
 
 ' If coming had been in my power, I would not have 
 come, 
 If going had been in my power, I would not go 
 Oh best of all lots, if in this world of clay 
 I had come not, nor gone, nor been at all ! ' 
 
 [App. XLV, Nicolas, 450, etc.] 
 
 The dark- « And if the present was dark, darker still seemed 
 
 ness of the (he future; its darkness made even the present seem 
 bright ! 
 
 ' Ere Death raises his night attack on my head, 
 Bid them bring the rose-red wine. 
 No gold art thou, poor brain-sick fool, 
 That once buried, they should dig thee out again ! ' 
 
 [XV, p. 30.] 
 
 " How different from the feeling of good old Izaak 
 Walton, when he stood by the open grave of his friend 
 Dr. Donne, and thought of ' that body which once was 
 a temple of the Holy Ghost, and is now become a 
 small quantity of Christian dust, — but I shall see it 
 re-animated ! ' " 
 
 future
 
 Introduction. 
 
 II. 
 
 cult 
 
 . The growth of the Omar Khayyam cult, which The Omar 
 during the past twenty years has assumed sucli Khayyam 
 extraordinary proportions, resulting in Omar Khay- 
 yam clubs and societies, and calling for edition 
 after edition of the " RubaiyaV may be attributed 
 almost wholly to the interpretation of Edward 
 FitzGerald. He ingeniously wove into a life-cycle 
 of agnosticism a number of originally disconnected 
 and isolated quatrains, informing the whole with 
 the unity of his own personality and with the 
 flamboyant brilliancy of his peculiar genius. He 
 took the Persian's thought and the Persian's man- 
 ner, but made it his with just such high-handed, 
 modest, one might almost say unconscious, art of 
 lordly rapine as Shakespeare displayed toward the 
 predecessors whom he robbed to glorify. 
 
 There are few characters in modern literature 
 who stand out with clearer individuality, or whose 
 lives have been more transparent. This individu- 
 ality is largely revealed in his letters, but also in 
 the recollections of his friends. 
 
 Edward FitzGerald, who bore the name of Edward 
 Edward Purcell until he was nine years old, was FitzGerald 
 born at Bredfield House, an old mansion of King 
 James's time, not far from Woodbridge, Suffolk, 
 England, March 31, 1809. He was the third son 
 of John Purcell, who on the death of his wife's 
 3
 
 Introduction. 
 
 Change of 
 name 
 
 father took the name and arms of FitzGerald. His 
 father was interested in collieries. In a letter to 
 Fanny Kemble, sister of his schoolmate, J. M. 
 Kemble, he says of his mother : " She was a re- 
 markable woman ... as I constantly believe in 
 outward Beauty as an Index of a Beautiful Soul 
 within, I used sometimes to wonder what feature 
 in her face betrayed what was not good in her 
 Character. I think (as usual) the lips; there was 
 a twist of Mischief about them, now and then, like 
 that in — the Tail of a Cat. Otherwise so smooth 
 and amiable." He speaks little of his father in his 
 letters: even his death, which left him comfortable 
 means, is dismissed in one letter with only a word. 
 But his mother, and her coach-and-four, were a 
 decided feature in his horizon. 
 
 His own vivacious humor was early shown in 
 his "unfailing fun and droll speeches." At the 
 age of twelve he was sent to King Edward the 
 Sixth's School at Bury St. Edmund's, where his 
 two older brothers were. In February, 1826, he 
 His friends was entered at Trinity College, Cambridge. Many 
 of his later friends and acquaintances — the 
 Baconian, James Speckling, W. M. Thackeray, 
 Archdeacon Allen, W. H. Thompson, Master of 
 Trinity; and the Tennysons — were contempo- 
 raries of his at the University. 
 
 FitzGerald passed through his course in a leis- 
 urely way, amusing himself with music, drawing, 
 and poetry, for all of which he had natural gifts: 
 when graduation drew nigh, he had some fears that 
 he might fail to pass. After taking his degree, he 
 went, in the spring of 1830, to Paris, where his aunt,
 
 Introduction. xxxv 
 
 Miss Purcell, lived. Fourteen years before, his 
 father's family had been settled at St. Germains, 
 and had afterwards occupied the house in which 
 Robespierre once lived. 
 
 In May he wrote his friend Allen : "I start for Becoming a 
 England in a week. ... I cannot stand seeing recluse 
 new faces in the polite circles. You must know I 
 am going to become a great bear: and have got all 
 sorts of Utopian ideas into my head about society: 
 these may all be very absurd, but I try the experi- 
 ment on myself, so I can do no great hurt." 
 
 Thus early began to show itself that shyness 
 which caused Cowell to say of him that he was " very 
 much of a recluse," though he hastens to add that the 
 " vein of misanthropy " which he showed toward men 
 in the abstract was "joined to a tenderhearted sym- 
 pathy for the actual men and women around him." 
 
 In November of that year he was at lonely Verses from 
 Naseby, where his father owned a large estate, in- his first 
 eluding the famous battlefield. Here he is sup- Published 
 posed to have written his first published verses, — P° em 
 the quaint old-fashioned poem which appeared in 
 Hone's Year Book for April 30, 1831 : — 
 
 " 'T is a dull sight 
 
 To see the year dying, 
 When winter winds 
 
 Set the yellow wood sighing: 
 Sighing, oh ! sighing. 
 
 " When such a time cometh, 
 I do retire 
 Into an old room 
 Beside a bright fire : 
 Oh, pile a bright fire!
 
 XXXVI 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 " And there I sit 
 
 Reading old things, 
 Of knights and lorn damsels, 
 While the wind sings — 
 Oh, drearily sings ! 
 
 " Then with an old friend 
 I talk of our youth — 
 How 't was gladsome, but often 
 Foolish, forsooth : 
 But gladsome, gladsome ! 
 
 " Then go we to smoking, 
 Silent and snug: 
 Nought passes between us, 
 Save a brown jug — 
 Sometimes ! " 
 
 Attributed 
 to Charles 
 Lamb 
 
 Lamb liked it: "'Tis a poem I envy — that and 
 Montgomery's ' Last Man ' : I envy the writers, 
 because I feel I could have done something like 
 them." FitzGerald himself liked it: "rather 
 homely in expression," he said, "but I honestly 
 profess to stick more to the simplicity of the old 
 poets than the moderns, and to love the philo- 
 sophical good humor of our old writers more than 
 the sickly melancholy of tlie Byronian wits." " The 
 Athenaeum " liked it, and copied the whole thir- 
 teen verses, believing them to have been Lamb's! 
 
 Twenty years later — the intervening years hav- 
 ing been filled with pleasant dilettanteism and 
 the writing of many delightful letters — he pub-
 
 Introduction. xxxvii 
 
 lislied "Euphranor," a study of a friendship, with " Euphra- 
 a literary discussion, in which "the truth," says nor " pub " 
 FitzGerald, " is told in a Dialogue really something IS e ' 
 
 1851 
 
 Platonic," conducted in part over the scene of the 
 
 Canterbury Pilgrimage. In this " chisell'd cherry 
 stone " is contained a description of a boat race, — 
 a piece of prose highly praised by Tennyson. The 
 next year came " Polonius," a collection of aphor- 
 isms, original and selected. He had before this 
 taken up the study of Spanish, and in 1853 he 
 published a free translation of six of Calderon's " Six Dra- 
 less famous dramas, in which, savs he, "while faith- mas from 
 fully trying to retain what was fine and efficient," Calderon" 
 he " sunk, reduced, altered, and replaced much ree y 
 that seemed not ; simplified some perplexities, and 
 curtailed or omitted scenes that seemed to mar the 
 breadth of general effect, supplying such omissions 
 by some lines of after narrative." 
 
 This is a very good confession of FitzGerald"s A theory of 
 theory of translation. In a letter to Lowell he translation 
 wrote : " It is an amusement to me to take what 
 Liberties I like with these Persians, who (as I 
 think) are not Poets enough to frighten one from 
 such excursions, and who really do want a little 
 Art to shape them." 
 
 It is uncertain at what time lie took up the study 
 of Persian, but in March, 1S82, he wrote to Mr. H. 
 Schütz-Wilson : — 
 
 "I must thank you sincerely for your thoughts about 
 Salâmân, in which I recognize a good will toward the 
 Translator, as well as liking for his work. ( )f course 
 your praise could not but help that on; but I scarce
 
 xxxviii Introduction. 
 
 think that it is of a kind to profit so far by any re- 
 view as to make it worth the expense of Time and 
 Talent you might bestow upon it. In Omar's case it 
 Why Omar was different : he sang in an acceptable way. it seems, 
 reaches the of what all men feel in their hearts, but had not had 
 heart exprest in verse before : Jami tells of what everybody 
 
 knows, under cover of a not very skilful Allegory. 1 
 have undoubtedly improved the whole by boiling it 
 clown to about a Quarter of its original size; and there 
 are many pretty things in it, though the blank Verse 
 is too Miltonic for Oriental style. All this considered, 
 why did I ever meddle with it ? Why, it was the 
 first Persian poem I read, with my friend Edward 
 Cowell, near on forty years ago: and I was so well 
 pleased with it then (and now think it almost the best 
 of the Persian Poems I have read or heard about), 
 that I published my version of it in 1856 (I think) 
 with Parker of the Strand. When Parker disappeared, 
 my unsold copies, many more than of the sold, were 
 returned to me ; some of which, if not all, I gave ta 
 little Quaritch, who, I believe, trumpeted them off to 
 some little profit : and I thought no more of them. 
 
 "But some six or seven years ago that Sheikh of 
 mine, Edward Cowell, who liked the Version better 
 than any one else, wished it to be reprinted. So I 
 took it in hand, boiled it down to three fourths of 
 what it originally was, and (as you see) clapt it on the 
 back of Omar, where I still believed it would hang 
 somewhat of a dea \ weight. ... As to the publication 
 of my name, I believe I could well dispense with it, 
 were it other and better than it is. Put I have some 
 unpleasant associations with it ; not the least of them 
 being that it was borne, Christian and Surname, by a 
 man who left College just as I went there. . . . What 
 has become of him I know not ; but he, among other
 
 Introduction. xxxix 
 
 causes, has made me dislike my name, and made me 
 sign myself (half in fun, of course) to my friends, as 
 now I do to you, sincerely yours, 
 
 (The Laird of) Littlegrange." 
 
 The forty years of this letter would have re- His first 
 moved his first Persian studies to the forties. His Persmn 
 interest in it certainly began then, for in 1846 he 
 wrote his friend Cowell : "Your Hafiz is fine: and 
 his tavern world is a sad and just idea. ... It 
 would be a good work to give us some of the good 
 things of Hafiz and the Persians: of bulbuls and 
 ghuls we have had enough." In 1852 he was 
 reading Spanish with him. and probably soon after 
 took up the Persian; for in October, 1S53. he 
 writes : " I have ordered Eastwick's Gulistan ; for 
 I believe I shall potter out so much Persian." He 
 used Sir William Jones's Grammar. And he writes 
 to Professor Cowell, March 12. 1857: — 
 
 " Only to-day I have been opening dear old Salâmdn : 
 the original copy we bought and began this time three 
 years ago at Oxford; with all my scratches of Query 
 and Explanation in it, and the Xotes from you among 
 the Leaves. How often I think with Sorrow of my 
 many Harshnesses and Impatiences ! which are yet 
 more of manner than intention." 
 
 From this same letter was quoted above his creed 
 as to freedom of translation, and just before the 
 passage introduced in the note to Rubâ'iy XXXIII 
 he makes an interesting comparison between Hafiz 
 and Omar: —
 
 xl 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 " Old Johnson said the Poets -were the best Preservers 
 
 of a Language: for People must go to the Original to 
 
 Hafiz most relish them. I am sure that what Tennyson said to 
 
 Persian of you is true: that Hafiz is the most Eastern — or, he 
 
 Persians should have said, most Persian — of the Persians. He 
 
 is the best representative of their character, whether 
 
 his Saki and Wine be real or mystical. Their Religion 
 
 and Philosophy is soon seen through, and always seems 
 
 to me cuckooed over like a borrowed thing, which people, 
 
 once having got, don't know how to parade enough. 
 
 To be sure, their Roses and Nightingales are repeated 
 
 enough; but Hafiz and old Omar Khayyam ring like 
 
 true metal. The Philosophy of the latter is, alas ! one 
 
 that never fails in the World! 'To-day is ours," &c." 
 
 In 1857 FitzGerald was copying out some of the 
 Rubâiyat for Garcin de Tassy, just as Cowell had 
 copied them for FitzGerald, making all the more 
 interesting Garcin de Tassy's boast that he had the 
 only manuscript in Paris. He wrote Cowell : — 
 
 " Perhaps he [that is, Garcin de Tassy] will edit them. 
 I should not wish him to do so if there were any chance 
 of your ever doing it ; but I don't think you will help 
 on the old Pantheist, and De Tassy really, after what 
 he is doing for the Mantic, deserves to make the ac- 
 quaintance of this remarkable little Fellow." 
 
 About a fortnight later he adds ; — 
 
 " I have been for the last five days with my brother 
 at Twickenham ; during which time I really copied out 
 Omar Khayyam, in a way! and shall to-day post it as 
 a 'cadeau'' to Garcin de Tassy in return for his Cour- 
 tesy to me. I am afraid, a bad return : for my MS. 
 is but badly written, and it would perhaps more plague
 
 Introduction. xli 
 
 than profit an English 'savant' to have such a present 
 made him." 
 
 Garcin de Tassy read some of the tetrastichs, and 
 found them not very difficult, the few stumbling- 
 blocks he attributed to the " copiste" and he pro- 
 posed to write for the "Journal Asiatique," an article 
 on it, in which he would honorably mention Cowell 
 and F'itzGerald. But FitzGerald hastened to de- 
 precate any such publicity: — 
 
 " Putting it on the ground [he said] that we do not FitzGer- 
 yet know enough of the matter: that I do not want aid's mod» 
 Cowell to be made answerable for errors which Edward est ^is- 
 FitzGerald may have made, and that E. F. G. neither c l aimer 
 merits nor desires any honourable mention as a Persian 
 Scholar : being none." 
 
 Garcin de Tassy published his " Note sur les 
 Rubâ'iyât de 'Omar Khaïyâm " in the "Journal 
 Asiatique," and afterwards in a thin pamphlet dated 
 at the Imprimerie impériale, 1857; but he refrained 
 from all mention of FitzGerald. The quatrains 
 which he translated into French prose, probably 
 the very ones which FitzGerald "pointed out to 
 him as the best," will be found in the Bibliography, 
 Appendix XLIX. 
 
 On the seventh of May, FitzGerald writes 
 Cowell : — 
 
 " To-day I have a note from the great De Tassy, 
 which announces : ' My dear Sir, Definitively I have 
 written a little Paper upon Omar, with some Quotations 
 taken here and there at random, avoiding only the too 
 badly sounding rubayât. I have read that paper before
 
 xlii 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 the Persian Ambassador and suite, at a meeting of the 
 Oriental Society, of which I am Vice-President, the 
 Duc de Dondeauville being president. The Ambassa- 
 dor has been much pleased of my quotations.' So you 
 see," adds FitzGerald, " I have done the part of an ill 
 Subject in helping France to ingratiate herself with 
 Garcin de Persia, when England might have had the start ! I 
 Tassy gets suppose it probable Ferukk Khan himself had never 
 the credit rea d or perhaps heard of Omar. I think I told you in 
 of a pioneer ni y ] as t that I had desired De Tassy to say nothing 
 about you in any paper he should write; since I cannot 
 have you answerable for any blunders I may have made 
 in my copy, nor may you care to be named with Omar 
 at all. I hope the Frenchman will attend to my desire ; 
 and I dare say he will, as he will then have all credit 
 to himself." 
 
 In June, FitzGerald had put away all books 
 except Omar Khayyam, which he says he could not 
 " help looking over in a Paddock covered with 
 Buttercups and brushed by a delicious Breeze, 
 while a dainty racing Filly of W. Browne's came 
 The para- startling up to wonder and snuff about me." Then 
 phrase comes the curious Latin translation of Ruba'iy 
 
 begun, iv. which is in Appendix II., and just about that 
 
 185 7 time arrives an Omar MS. from Cowell, and this 
 
 seems to have determined his work. He writes 
 that he shall perhaps "make some notes and 
 enquiries" as he goes on looking them over. "I 
 think this MS." he says, " furnishes some oppor- 
 tunities for one's critical faculties, and so is a good 
 exercise for them, if one wanted such." 
 
 It is interesting to {rather the Omar-touches in
 
 Introduction. xliii 
 
 his letters. On the first of July lie adds to the 
 same epistle : — 
 
 "June over. A thing I think of with Omar-like Roses in 
 sorrow. And the Roses here are blowing — and going England 
 — as abundantly as even in Persia. 1 am still at Gelde- 
 stone, and still looking at < >mar by an open window 
 winch gives over a Greener Landscape than yours." 
 
 And he closed the letter on the anniversary of 
 Lowell's departure for India, with praise of the 
 Calcutta Omar, comparing it favorably with the 
 Ouseley MS., and rather fondly clinging to his 
 hope that it was by Omar himself: the last word 
 in it is mention of his " poor Sir YV. Jones 1 sort of 
 Parody." 
 
 Then on the third of September, 1858, he gives 
 the first definite information as to the " Rubâiyât": 
 
 " As to my Omar : I gave it to Parker in January, I First men- 
 think : he saying Fraser w r as agreeable to take it. tion of the 
 Since then I have heard no more ; so as, I suppose, translation, 
 they don't care about it: and may be quite right. Had 1858 
 I thought they would be so long, however, I would have 
 copied it out and sent it to you : and I will still do so 
 from a rough and imperfect Copy I have (though not 
 now at hand), in case they show no sign of printing me. 
 My Translation will interest you from its Form, and 
 also in many respects in its Detail ; very militerai as it Very 
 is. Many Quatrains are mashed together: and some- unliteral 
 thing lost, I doubt, of Omar's simplicity, which is so 
 much a Virtue in him. But there it is, such as it is. I 
 purposely said in the very short notice I prefixed to the 
 Poem that it was so short because better information 
 might be furnished in another Paper, which I thought 
 you would undertake. So it rests."
 
 xliv 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 Still weeks passed by with no satisfaction. 
 November he wrote : — 
 
 In 
 
 Fraser " As to Omar, I hear and see nothing of it in Fraser 
 
 refuses it yet : and so I suppose they don't want it. I told Parker 
 he might find it rather dangerous among his Divines : 
 he took it however, and keeps it. I really think I shall 
 take it back ; add some Stanzas which I kept out for 
 fear of being too strong; print fifty copies and give 
 away; one to you, who won't like it neither. Yet it is 
 most ingeniously tesselated into a sort of Epicurean 
 Eclogue in a Persian Garden." 
 
 What the 
 
 translation 
 
 rnisses 
 
 About the middle of January of the eventful 
 year, FitzGerald wrote Cowell : — 
 
 " I am almost ashamed to write to you, so much have 
 I forsaken Persian, and even all good Books of late. 
 There is no one now to 'prick the Sides of my 
 Intent ' ; Vaulting Ambition having long failed to do 
 so ! I took my Omar from Fraser, as I saw he didn't 
 care for it ; and also I want to enlarge it to near as 
 much again, of such Matter as he would not dare to 
 put in Fraser. If I print it, I shall do the impudence 
 of quoting your Account of Omar and your Apology 
 for his Freethinking : it is not wholly my Apology, but 
 you introduced him to me, and your excuse extends to 
 that which you have not ventured to quote, and I do. 
 I like your Apology extremely also, allowing its Point 
 of View. I doubt you will repent of ever having 
 showed me the Book. . . . My Translation has its 
 merit : but it misses a main one in Omar, which I will 
 leave you to find out. The Latin versions, if they 
 were corrected into decent Latin, would be very much 
 better."
 
 Introduction. xlv 
 
 Two years later, Dec. g, 1861, he wrote W. H. 
 Thompson : — 
 
 " As to my own Peccadilloes in Verse, which never 
 pretend to be original, this is the story of Rubâiyât. I 
 had translated them partly for Cowell : young Parker 
 asked me some years ago for something for Fraser, 
 and I gave him the less wicked of these to use if he 
 chose. He kept them for two years without using: 
 and as I saw he didn't want them, I printed some 
 copies with Quaritch ; and keeping some for myself, 
 gave him the rest. Cowell, to whom I sent a Copy, Cowell's 
 was naturally alarmed at it ; he being a very religious alarm 
 Man : nor have I given any other Copy but to George 
 Borrow, to whom I had once lent the Persian, and to 
 old Donne when he was down here the other Day, to 
 whom I was showing a Passage in another Book, which 
 brought my old Omar up." 
 
 The first edition of FitzGerald's " Rubâiyât " was 
 published anonymously in 1859. " Nearly the 
 whole of this edition," says Mr. Quaritch, " I sold 
 (not being able to get more) at one penny each. 
 Mr. FitzGerald had made me a present of about 
 two hundred copies of the two hundred and fifty 
 he had printed." In 1887 Mr. Quaritch offered for 
 sale a single copy of the first edition, "with a few 
 manuscript notes," at £\ 4.?. The price steadily 
 increased. In November, 1894, he advertised a 
 single copy of this little insignificant-looking 
 brown-paper-covered pamphlet at £6 6s. 
 
 It is said that the late Dante Gabriel Rossetti Rossetti's 
 was one of the first admirers of the poem, and used propa- 
 to send "his pupils, the earnest young men that s an dism
 
 xlvi 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 hung upon his Chaucerian lips, to search the 
 boxes for hid treasures." Gradually the fame of 
 the Translation, which many thought to be an 
 original work, made its way among a limited circle . 
 but as yet no magazine or journal reviewed it or 
 called it into publicity. 
 
 He still seemed to hope that Professor Cowell 
 would edit Omar: he wrote him: — 
 
 " Are you not the only man to do it ? And he is 
 
 worth re-editing. I thought him from the first the most 
 
 Omar remarkable of the Persian poets : and you keep finding 
 
 the most out in him Evidences of logical Fancy which I had 
 
 remarkable not dreamed of. ... I doubt I have given but a very 
 
 Persian one-sided version of Omar : but what I clo only comes 
 
 poet up as a Bubble to the Surface and breaks : whereas 
 
 you, with exact scholarship, might make a lasting 
 
 impression of such an Author." 
 
 This was written in 1861. In 1S68 the second 
 edition was issued, the number of the quatrains 
 increased from seventy-five to one hundred and 
 ten; the name still sedulously repressed. It is 
 a common belief that FitzGerald over-elaborated 
 in the later editions, and injured the first sponta- 
 neity of his Bubbles ; he himself wrote to Pro- 
 fessor Cowell : " I suppose very few people have 
 ever taken such pains in translation as I have : 
 though certainly not to be literal." Yet he said: 
 " To correct is the Bore." 
 The first An article in the " Saturday Review " for Jan- 
 
 two editions uary 16, 18S6, apparently by Justin Huntly 
 compared McCarthy, gives a brief account of the first ver-
 
 Introduction. xlvii 
 
 sion, and a statement of the divergencies "which 
 occur in the editions of this singularly interesting 
 poem " : — 
 
 "The treatment of the opening quatrain [it says] 
 does without doubt appear to justify the complaint that 
 the author had not the courage of his first adventure. 
 . . . Nothing could exceed the felicity of this cluster of 
 Eastern images," and Mr. Aldis Wright was called 
 upon to explain, if possible, under what pressure 
 Mr. FitzGerald " tamed down his Persian tiger-cat in 
 1868." 
 
 " The 'shafts ' and 'sessions ' are ineffectual indeed The first 
 after the heroic imagery of the original, and the poet stanza 
 was obliged to suppress the interesting note that ex- 
 plained that flinging a stone into the cup was the 
 signal for ' To Horse ' in the Desert. 
 
 " The second stanza in 1S59 [it goes on to say] was 
 not less original, and has still more completely disap- 
 peared. It was, however, less poetical, and we regret 
 it less acutely. . . . From this point the text of 1859 
 proceeds as we now know the poem for a consider- 
 able distance, save that the rose had a 'yellow cheek.' 
 which we distinctly prefer to her present ' sallow ' one. 
 So far we agree with the critics who complain of the 
 revision as wholly uncalled for. But at the eighth 
 quatrain we join issue with them. It would be unfor- 
 tunate indeed to be deprived of the stanza beginning, 
 ' Whether at Naishâpûr or liabylon,' which is a little 
 masterpiece of melody; and in 1859 the beautiful open- 
 ing of the next quatrain took this far less felicitous 
 form : — 
 
 ' And look — a thousand Blossoms with the Day 
 Woke, — and a thousand seatter'd into Clay.'
 
 xlviii 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 " Nor do we carry antiquarianism so far as to per- 
 suade ourselves to prefer 
 
 ' But come with old Khayyam, and leave the Lot 
 Of Kaikobâd and Kaikhosrü forgot — ' 
 
 to the mellifluous 
 
 ' Well, let it take them ! what have we to do 
 With Kaikobâd the Great, or Kaikhosrü ? ' 
 
 " A little lower down the definite ' A Loaf of Bread 
 beneath the Bough,' of 1859, is but ill exchanged for 
 'A little Bread,' in 186S and onwards. We proceed, 
 and presently discover that the quatrain, ' Were it not 
 folly Spider-like to spin,' does not occur in the original 
 Instances edition. Among the noble series of instances of fallen 
 of fallen splendour we miss also 'The Palace that to Heav'n his 
 
 splendour pillars threw,' but come upon it, upon closer examina- 
 tion, in the notes at the end of the poem. For some 
 distance onwards our collation reveals no important 
 changes save in the sequence of the sections. Of the 
 following very suggestive quatrain, however, the last 
 line only has been preserved since 1859: — 
 
 ' O come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise 
 To talk ; one thing is certain, that life flies ; 
 One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies ; 
 The Flower that once has blown for ever dies.' 
 
 " We presently reach a point where the later editions 
 have manifestly an advantage over the first. It is ex- 
 traordinary to find so halting and wooden an image as 
 this,— 
 
 ' Another and another Cup to drown 
 The Memory of this Impertinence,'
 
 Introduction. xlix 
 
 taking the place of the magnificent lines that are among 
 the best known in the whole poem, — 
 
 'Ah, contrite Heav'n endowed us with the Vine 
 To drug the memory of that insolence ! ' 
 
 The central part of the poem, in which Omar Khayyam 
 gives the rein to his mystical and sceptical metaphysics, 
 is treated quite otherwise in the first and the later edi- 
 tions. Readers familiar with the series of curious 
 quatrains which form the least pleasing but not the 
 least original section of the work, will be inclined to 
 compare them with these concise stanzas, now entirely 
 transmuted and dissolved, in which the cynicism of the 
 poet was presented in 1.S59. 
 
 " The section, now unnamed and consisting of nine The Book 
 quatrains, which recounts the conversation among the of Pots 
 pots at the close of Ramazdn, is called the ' Kiiza- 
 Nâma,' and contains but eight quatrains in the original 
 edition. 
 
 "Here also the alterations add little or nothing to 
 the effect ; and some of the earlier phrases, such as 
 ' surly Tapster' for ' surly Master,' and the ' clay Popu- 
 lation ' for ' the Shapes of Clay,' seem distinctly prefer- 
 able. The most curious and unfortunate alteration has 
 yet, however, to be noted. Few readers of the poem 
 will hesitate to admit that the final section, with its ex- 
 quisitely pathetic references to the poet's approaching 
 death, form the crowning charm of the whole poem. 
 But, as we at present possess it, it is marred by the 
 insertion of three stanzas — those beginning 'Would 
 but the Desert of the Fountain yield' — in which the 
 exquisite tension of style is sensibly relaxed, and in 
 which a more common-place order of reflection breaks 
 in upon the sincerity and originality of the rest. These 
 
 4
 
 1 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 three needless quatrains repeat, with infinitely less 
 felicity, the sentiment of the beautiful stanza that now 
 follows them : — 
 
 'Ah, Love! could you and I with Fate conspire 
 To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, 
 Would we not shatter into bits — and then 
 Remould it nearer to the Heart's Desire.' 
 
 Three It is therefore extremely interesting to discover that 
 
 interpolated these three stanzas do not occur in the first edition, and 
 
 stanzas that they are — what we might perhaps expect them to 
 
 be — an addition thrust into the poem when the brain 
 
 of the writer was no longer running with molten 
 
 bronze. 
 
 " Without this colder patch upon it, the section forms 
 one of the most lovely and delicate passages of recent 
 English verse. The last quatrain but one in 1S59 ran 
 thus : — 
 
 ' Ah, Moon of my Delight who know'st no wane, 
 The Moon of Heaven is rising once again ; 
 
 How oft hereafter rising will she look 
 Through this same Garden after me — in vain.' 
 
 It is currently believed that the cruel reception which 
 Fitzgerald's ' Six Dramas of Calderon ' met with from 
 the Athenaeum in 1853 — a reception immediately fol- 
 lowed by the withdrawal of the volume from circulation 
 — led him to hold very lightly on publicity. He was 
 not surprised when the Rubâiyât also fell still-born 
 from the press ; and, if younger hands had not lifted it 
 from neglect, it is unlikely that he would ever have re- 
 A free vived it. His theory of translation was a very free one, 
 
 theory of and justified only by complete poetical success. It 
 translation was perfectly pardonable that a reviewer who demanded
 
 Introduction. li 
 
 exact fidelity to the text of his original should exclaim 
 against a translator who took Sir John Denham's plea 
 for license so literally. But it is not as a translation 
 that the English-speaking people have accepted the 
 Rubâiyât into their literature, — it is as an original 
 poem ; and in thus comparing the first edition of this 
 important work with the second, we have thought it as 
 needless to inquire what relation either version bears 
 to the text of Omar Khayyam as it would he to tie 
 Marlowe down to the very language of Musaeus. In 
 the one case and the other, the paraphrase possesses 
 merits which render it of greater importance than the 
 original." 
 
 In England the second edition of the " Ru- Professor 
 bâiyât" attracted scarcely more attention than Norton's 
 the princeps had clone : it was Mr. Charles Eliot review 
 Norton who first gave due credit to the merits 
 of FitzGerald's version. In the " North American 
 Review" for October. 1869, he wrote an extended 
 notice of Nicolas and of Edition IE He was keen 
 enough to see that there might be more than one 
 way to interpret Khayyam's quatrains; he asks: 
 
 " May it not be that there are two sides to Omar's 
 shield, — one of mystic gold, the other of plain silver?" 
 
 One or two passages from this review may be 
 with propriety quoted here : — 
 
 " But whatever allowance be required for the sensual The deli- 
 side of Omar's character, his quatrains give proof of cacy and 
 the delicacy no less than of the strength of his poetic strength of 
 nature, of the subtilty no less than of the elevation of his poetic 
 his thought. ... If we interpret some of Omar's qua- nature
 
 lii 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 trains mystically, we find him sometimes seeking satis- 
 faction in pantheistic abstractions, in efforts toward 
 communion with, and absorption in, the Divine, and 
 sometimes betaking himself to atheistic speculations, 
 and admitting no other guiding principle in the uni- 
 His manly verse than a blind, impartial fate. But, perplexed or 
 inde- battled as he may be, he maintains a manly indepen- 
 
 pendence dence, and, finding nothing outside or beyond the 
 world to rest upon, fixes himself solidly here, and 
 resolves, while all things are fleeting and changing 
 around him, to enjoy at least the present hour, and to 
 make the best of the life which is his to-day, but may 
 not be his to-morrow. However shifting and uncer- 
 tain are his thoughts respecting the invisible and the 
 unknown, his practical philosophy does not vary, and 
 like the Hebrew preacher, he constantly repeats, 
 ' There is nothing better for a man than that he should 
 eat and drink, and that he should make his soul enjoy 
 good in his labour. This also I saw, that it was from 
 the hand of God." 
 
 Mr. Norton then translates a number of the 
 quatrains from Nicolas. 
 
 Of FitzGerald, then unknown, but afterwards a 
 frequent correspondent, Professor Norton says : — 
 
 A perfect " He is to be called ' translator' only in default of a 
 
 paraphrase better word, one which should express the poetic trans- 
 fusion of a poetic spirit from one language to another, 
 and the re-presentation of the ideas and images of the 
 original in a form not altogether diverse from their 
 own, but perfectly adapted to the new conditions of 
 time, place, custom, and habit of mind in which they 
 reappear. It has all the merit of a remarkable original 
 production, and its excellence is the highest testimony
 
 Introduction. lui 
 
 that could be given to the essential impressiveness 
 and worth of the Persian poet. It is the work of a 
 poet inspired by the work of a poet ; not a copy, but a 
 reproduction, not a translation, but the re-delivery of a 
 poetic inspiration ... in its English dress it reads liku 
 the latest and freshest expression of the perplexity and 
 of the doubt of the generation to which we ourselves 
 belong. There is probably nothing in the muss of Its value as 
 English translations or reproductions of the poetry of English 
 the East to be compared with this little volume in poetry 
 point of value as English poetry. In the strength of 
 rhythmical structure, in force of expression, in musical 
 modulation, and in mastery of language, the external 
 character of the verse corresponds with the still rarer 
 interior qualities of imagination and of spiritual dis- 
 cernment which it displays." 
 
 The article ends with a selection of seventy-four 
 out of the one hundred and ten Rubaiy.it. 
 
 The keynote of praise set by Mr. Norton was 
 echoed by an anonymous reviewer in Fraser's, 
 who in June, 1S70, wrote : — 
 
 "It would be difficult to find a more complete Professor 
 example of terse and vigorous English, free from all Norton's 
 words of weakness or superfluity. The rhythm of hi-; praise 
 stanzas is admirable, and that with which the poem echoed 
 begins may be taken as a fair specimen of the pointed 
 force with which he expresses himself." 
 
 Four years later, in 1872, the third edition 
 appeared; but not until 1873 did so intimate an 
 acquaintance as Carlyle discover who the anony- 
 mous translator was. Mr. Norton brought the
 
 liv 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 Mr. Levi S. 
 Thaxter's 
 propa- 
 gandism 
 
 The 
 
 Academy's 
 
 criticism 
 
 fact to his knowledge, and gave him a copy of the 
 third edition. Carlyle wrote FitzGerald : — 
 
 " From him too, by careful cross-questioning, I iden- 
 tified, beyond dispute, the hidden ' Fitzgerald,' the 
 Translator ; — and indeed found that his complete 
 silence, and unique modesty in regard to said meri- 
 torious and successful performance, was simply a fea- 
 ture of my own Edward F. The translation is excellent ; 
 the Book itself a kind of jewel in its way." 
 
 Yet Carlyle, in one of his dyspeptic moods, called 
 Omar " the Persian blackguard ! " 
 
 Mr. FitzGerald found in the late Levi S. Thaxter 
 an enthusiastic admirer and propagandist. Mr. 
 Thaxter imported many copies to distribute among 
 his friends. There lies before me now a copy in 
 which Mr. Thaxter wrote in variants of the first 
 edition in violet ink and those of the second in 
 black ink, together with an inscription of " affec- 
 tionate remembrances to T. W. H." In an accom- 
 panying letter to Colonel Higginson he says : " The 
 second edition is, on the whole, the best. I think. 
 Mr. F. has puttered too much over the third." 
 
 The Fnglish reviewers now began to wake to 
 the merits of this masterpiece. For instance, the 
 " Academy " said : — 
 
 "Mr. FitzGerald has done what the finest textual 
 criticism and the most uncompromising devotion to 
 literal accuracy could never accomplish : he has repro- 
 duced the thoughts of the Persian poet in English 
 poetry, not merely in versified prose. Omar Khayyam 
 is, we believe, the only Oriental poet who has been thus
 
 Introduction. lv 
 
 worthily represented. . . . We believe Mr. FitzGerald's 
 version to be unapproachable in poetic feeling, and 
 scarcely less in perfectness of form." 
 
 From this time forth the vogue of the FitzGerald 
 translation was assured, at least here in America. 
 The Bibliography* will give a succinct history of 
 the quick succession of editions. It has been the 
 fate of every limited edition speedily to get out of 
 print, and to acquire enhanced values: the Grober 
 edition — certainly not the most attractive — car- 
 rying the palm of fancy price. 
 
 Mr. FitzGerald himself lived to see the grain of FitzGer- 
 mustard-seed just beginning that growth into a aid's un- 
 tree large enough for the birds of the air to build eventful 
 thereon. His life was passed uneventfully. He 
 never cared to travel. He had the " London dis- 
 gust" in a pronounced form. He was fond of the 
 sea, and spent much time cruising in a little yacht, 
 which he named the Scandal, because " that was 
 the staple product of Woodbridge." He also 
 owned a share in a herring-lugger named " Meum 
 & Timm," the stern-board of which now belongs 
 to the Omar Khayyam Club of London. It would His eccen- 
 be interesting to give a full picture of "Old Fitz " tricities 
 and all his eccentricities of dress and manner. 
 He said of his family : " We are all mad, but with 
 this difference, — / know I am!" In 1866 he 
 wrote: "If I were conscious of being steadfast 
 and good-humoured enough, I would marry to-mor- 
 row. But a humorist is best by himself." Bernard 
 
 * Appendix X I. IX.
 
 lvi Introduction. 
 
 Barton, the Quaker Poet, when on his death-bed 
 asked FitzGerald to take care of his only daughter: 
 the poet married her; but the "If" in the quoted 
 letter proved a prophecy, and after a few years they 
 parted with mutual respect, FitzGerald generously 
 His sharing his property with her. His income is said 
 
 generosity n0 { ^ ] iave been over ^iooo a year, but he was 
 always generous. Ouaritch paid him ten pounds for 
 his second edition : he contributed the little hono- 
 rarium to the fund in aid of the sufferers from the 
 famine in Persia. Once, hearing that a grocer was 
 in pecuniary difficulties, he bought his entire stock. 
 He is said to have had a habit, worthy of a 
 Rogers, of using bank-notes for book-marks, and 
 after his death many of them were found in the 
 volumes of his library. He had a unique way of 
 cutting the padding out of books, and binding the 
 remainder into a single thin volume. He preserved 
 manv of his favorite selections in a manuscript 
 which he entitled " Half Hours with the Worst 
 Authors." His tastes were peculiar, and he did 
 not hesitate in his letters to indulge in criticisms 
 that were almost Carlylesque in their severitv. 
 His misunderstood remark about the death of Mrs. 
 Browning drew from Robert Browning the fiery 
 sonnet which is not now included in any edition of 
 Browning's works. He liked Lever's " O'Dowd 
 Essays" better than Addison. His letters are full 
 of his curious preferences in art and music and 
 literature. Mrs. Kemble says of him : — 
 
 " He was distinguished from the rest of his family, 
 and, indeed, from most people, by the possession of very
 
 account of 
 FitzGerald 
 
 Introduction. lvii 
 
 rare intellectual and artistic gifts. A poet, a painter, Fanny 
 a musician, an admirable scholar and writer, if he had Kemble's 
 nut shunned notoriety as sedulously as most people 
 seek it, he would have achieved a foremost place among 
 eminent men of his day, and left a name second to that 
 of very few of his contemporaries. His life was spent 
 in literary leisure, or literary labors of love of singular 
 excellence, which he never cared to publish beyond the 
 circle of his intimate fiiends : ' Euphranor,' ' Polonius,' 
 collections of dialogues full of keen wisdom, fine ob- 
 servation, and profound thought; sterling philosophy, 
 written in the purest, simplest, and raciest English ; 
 noble translations, or rather free adaptations, of Cald- 
 eron's two finest dramas, ' The Wonderful Magician ' 
 and 'Life's a Dream,' and a splendid paraphrase of 
 the ' Agamemnon ' of .Eschylus, which fills its reader 
 with regret that he should not have Englished the whole 
 of the great trilogy with the same»severe sublimity. In 
 America this gentleman is better known by his trans- 
 lation or adaptation (how much more of it is his own 
 than the author's I should like to know if I were Irish) 
 of ( >mar Khay'am, the astronomer-poet of Persia. . . . 
 
 "While these were Edward FitzGerald's studies and 
 pursuits, he led a curious life of almost entire estrange- 
 ment from society, preferring the company of rough 
 sailors and fishermen of the Suffolk coast to that of 
 lettered folk. He lived with them in the most friendly 
 intimacy, helping them in their sea ventures, and cruis- 
 ing about with one — an especially fine sample of his 
 sort — in a small fishing-smack which Edward Fitz- 
 Gerald's bounty had set afloat, and in which the transla- 
 tor of Calderon and .Esehylus passed his time, better 
 pleased with the fellowship and intercourse of the 
 captain and crew of his small craft than with that of 
 more educated and sophisticated humanity."
 
 lviii 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 The death 
 of his 
 boatman 
 
 His death 
 
 In 1877 liis favorite boatman died, and from that 
 time forth he gave up even the sea. He wrote 
 Professor Covvell : "I have not had heart to go on 
 our river since the death of my old Companion 
 West, with whom I had traversed reach after reach 
 for these dozen years. I am almost as averse to 
 them now as Peter Grimes. So now I content 
 myself with the River Side." He lived the latter 
 part of his life nominally at Little Grange, where 
 he went after his lodgings-keeper, Mr. Berry, who 
 weighed only nine stone, took unto himself a buxom 
 fourteen-stone helpmeet ; but he often visited at the 
 Bredfield Vicarage of his old friend Crabbe. 
 
 There it was that he died on the morning of 
 June 14, 1883. Mr. Crabbe found him "as if 
 peacefully sleeping, but quite dead." He had 
 written to Professor Cowell eight years previously. 
 " I can't say I have much care for long Life : but 
 still less for long Death : I mean a lingering one." 
 And only sixteen days before his death he wrote 
 one of his nieces: " It seems strange to me to be 
 so seemingly alert — certainly, alive — amid such 
 fatalities with younger and stronger people. But 
 even while I say so, the hair may break, and the 
 suspended Sword fall." 
 
 After his death Mr. William Aldis Wright came 
 into possession of a small tin box containing cor- 
 rected copies of his printed works, and a letter 
 asking him to see that, if — though it seemed to 
 him unlikely — any of his works should be called for, 
 they might be properly reprinted. He mentioned 
 by name the three Plays from the Greek and
 
 Introduction. Hx 
 
 Calderon's " Mâgico," the C. Lamb papers, and the His literary 
 Selections from Crabbe and his ''poor old Lowe- le s ac y 
 
 stoft Sea-slang " which lie had contributed in 1S68-9 
 to the " East- Anglican," Not a word about the 
 " Rubâiyât " ! 
 
 It is from the corrected copy of this fourth 
 edition that Mr. Wright published the fifth edition, 
 in the third volume of FitzGerald's "Letters and 
 Literary Remains." This also is taken for the 
 basis of the comparison in the present edition. 
 And it may be stated here that through the cour- 
 tesy of Professor Norton and Mr. French I have 
 been enabled to compare the reprints of the first 
 and second editions with the genuine originals, 
 thereby correcting a number of slight inaccuracies 
 that had crept into previous reprints. They there- 
 fore stand in the present volume literally correct, 
 even to the reproduction of typographical errors 
 such as the omission of note-numbers and the 
 like. 
 
 The Poet-Laureate on hearing of FitzGerald's 
 death wrote to the late Sir Frederick Pollock : 
 
 " I had no truer friend : he was one of the kindliest 
 of men, and I have never known one of so fine and 
 delicate a wit. I had written a poem to him the last 
 week, a dedication, which he will never see." 
 
 The poem was the proem to "Tiresias." It 
 contains some interesting references, and the praise 
 of the " Rubâiyât " is echoed by every reader of 
 the work : —
 
 Ix 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 To E. FitzGerald. 
 
 Tennyson's 
 
 dedicatory 
 
 poem 
 
 A golden 
 Eastern lay 
 
 Old Fitz, who from your suburb grange, 
 
 Where once I tarried for a while, 
 Glance at the wheeling Orb of change, 
 
 And greet it with a kindly smile ; 
 Whom yet I see as there you sit 
 
 Beneath your sheltering garden-tree, 
 And watch your doves about you flit, 
 
 And plant on shoulder, hand and knee, 
 Or on your head their rosy feet, 
 
 As if they knew your diet spares 
 Whatever moved in that full sheet 
 
 Let down to Peter at his prayers ; 
 Who live on milk and meal and grass; 
 
 And once for ten long weeks I tried 
 Your table of Pythagoras, 
 
 And seem'd at first ' a thing enskied ' 
 (As Shakespeare has it) airy-light 
 
 To Unat above the ways of men, 
 Then fell from that half-spiritual height 
 
 Chill'd, till I tasted flesh again 
 One night when earth was winter-black, 
 
 And all the heavens flash 'd in frost ; 
 And on me, half-asleep, came back 
 
 That wholesome heat the blood had lost, 
 And set me climbing icy capes 
 
 And glaciers, over which there roll'd 
 To meet me long-arm'd vines with grapes 
 
 Of Eshcol hugeness ; for the cold 
 Without, and warmth within me, wrought 
 
 To mould the dream , but none can say 
 That Lenten fare makes Lenten thought, 
 
 Who reads your golden Eastern lay, 
 Than which 1 know no version done 
 
 In English more divinely well ;
 
 Introduction. Ixi 
 
 A planet equal to the sun 
 
 Which cast it, that large infidel 
 Your Uniar; ami your Omar drew 
 
 Lull-handed plaudits from our best 
 In modern letters, ami from two, 
 
 Old friends outvaluing all the rest, 
 Two voices heard on earth no more ; 
 
 But we old friends are still alive, 
 And I am nearing seventy-four, 
 
 While you have touch'd at seventy-five, 
 And so I send a birthday line 
 
 Of greeting ; and my son, who dipt 
 In some forgotten book of mine 
 
 With sallow scraps of manuscript, 
 And dating many a year ago, 
 
 Has hit on this, which you will take, 
 My Fitz, and welcome, as I know, 
 
 Less for its own than for the sake 
 Of one recalling gracious times, 
 
 When, in our younger London days, 
 You found some merit in my rhymes, 
 
 And I more pleasure in your praise. 
 
 III. 
 
 There can be no doubt of the truth of the fre- Omar's 
 
 quently iterated statement that FitzGerald's Omar popularity 
 
 has found more readers in the United States than in the 
 
 in England. It might possibly have remained the „ 
 
 • j ■ c • , n , States 
 
 prized possession ot a comparatively small number 
 
 of cultivated people, and little more than a name — 
 
 and an unpronounceable name — to the multitude,
 
 lxii Introduction. 
 
 had it not been for an American artist who saw in 
 the quatrains an opportunity of graphic illustra- 
 tion. About a year after the death of the trans- 
 lator, Mr. Elihu Vedder exhibited the original 
 drawings, which he had completed during a visit 
 in Rome. They were afterwards published in a 
 sumptuous volume, the price of which naturally 
 put it out of reach of the majority of people ; but 
 the fame of the artist quickly made his work, and 
 consequently the poem which he had so genially 
 illustrated, a familiar subject of conversation and 
 Elihu of real knowledge. Hosts of readers know the 
 
 Vedder's "Rubaiyät," not by their name, but simply as the 
 illustrations poem illustrated by Vedder. An edition in re- 
 duced size, and far cheaper than the royal quarto 
 first published, still more widely disseminated the 
 knowledge of the old Persian; and the proof of his 
 popularity is shown in the multitudinous editions 
 — variorum and other — which have been called 
 for during the past ten years. 
 
 Westward the course of Omar's empire has 
 taken its way. A San Francisco weekly in 18S3 
 called the Vedder edition the Book of the year, 
 and stated that about ten copies of the ordinary 
 edition, and one of the édition de luxe, had been 
 Praise from sold in that city. A journal in Portland, Oregon, 
 the Pacific ten years later declared that " No literary event 
 since the birth of classic letters and art in the six- 
 teenth century is at all comparable to the discov- 
 ery and reincarnation of Omar by Fitzgerald." 
 Another passage from this same article is not 
 without interest : —
 
 Introduction. Ixiii 
 
 " This Persian poet of love and wine and death and 
 fate sung to dull foreign ears. It is as if Hannibal had 
 conquered Italy and Lucretius and Horace had ap- 
 peared two or three centuries before they did to teach 
 philosophy and interpret beauty to their masters. 
 Only Omar teaches a deeper and surer philosophy 
 than either Lucretius or his Greek master, and his 
 verse, mocking Oriental appetite with an illusory 
 veil of sensuality, exhales finer and subtler spiritual 
 beauty than the Roman mind could conceive or the 
 Latin tongue express. Omar had to wait for the nine- 
 teenth century and the delicate interpretation of Fitz- 
 gerald. The two names are united beyond power of 
 divorcement." 
 
 Such criticism, originating so far from what is 
 usually considered the literary centre of our coun- 
 try, is a significant phenomenon. It shows how 
 widespread is the influence of the Omar Khayyam 
 cult. Mr. Andrew Lang gives us a tentative ex- Andrew 
 planation of the popularity of the Poet-Astronomer Lang's ex- 
 in these words : " The great charm of all ancient Pl anatlon 
 
 literature," he says, "is the finding of ourselves in 
 
 popularity 
 the past. It is as if the fable of repeated and 
 
 recurring lives were true ; as if in the faith, or 
 unbelief, or merriment, or despair, or courage, or 
 cowardice of men long dead, we heard the echoes 
 of our own thoughts and the beating of hearts that 
 were once our own. . . . Who could have foreseen 
 that Merv would one clay become a place of mo- 
 ment to England, or that we should be listening to 
 that Persian singer, and finding our dreams and 
 fancies anticipated in his ! He lived in the Ages 
 of Faith, — of Faith, Christian or Moslem, — and
 
 lxiv Introduction. 
 
 lo, he says after the Greeks all that the Gieeks 
 said of saddest; the most resigned reflections of 
 Marcus Aurelius rise to his lips, and he repeats, 
 long before our day, the words of melancholy or 
 of tolerance which now are almost commonplaces. 
 That is why we listen, because the familiar say- 
 ings come on the wings of a strange music from 
 a strange place, — from the lips of Omar, from the 
 City of the Desert." * 
 
 The interest aroused in FitzGerald's paraphrase 
 could not fail to attract attention to the original 
 itself. Leaving out of account for the present 
 various sporadic attempts to render into English 
 verse isolated quatrains which have appeared in 
 Oriental or English magazines, we will give a brief 
 survey of more important work done by Fitz- 
 Gerald's successors. 
 The prose The first to bring out anything like a complete 
 
 version of version of Omar Khayyam was J. B. Nicolas, who 
 J.B.Nicolas ] iac j servec l as Premier Drogman, or Chief Inter- 
 preter, at the French Embassy in Persia, and 
 was in 1S67 the French Consul at Rescht. M. 
 Nicolas was also author of a manual of Franco- 
 Persian Dialogues, with notes on the principal 
 rules of Persian Grammar. His edition, "Printed 
 by the Emperor's Orders " at the Imperial Print- 
 ing Office, contains 464 Rubâiyât copied from the 
 Teheran lithographed edition, together with a 
 prose translation accompanied by an extraordinary 
 array of notes. It must be confessed that M. 
 
 * The Independent.
 
 Introduction. lxv 
 
 Nicolas's versions are often flat and unsatisfac- 
 tory. " Nightingales, when they speak to the poet, 
 speak in a language appropriate to the circum- 
 stances," and often, if Omar has a bit of advice to 
 give, M. Nicolas places in a parenthesis a gratui- 
 tous " Le voici." Similar infelicities might be 
 multiplied. He is open to the severer charge of 
 frequent inaccuracy, and he is on the whole an 
 untrustworthy guide. But it must be remembered 
 that in France at least he was the first to work the 
 mine, and that apparently he was unacquainted 
 with previous English or German translations. 
 
 His work has the merit of generous enthusiasm, 
 and later translators owe him their acknowledg- 
 ments both for his own interpretation, and espe- 
 cially for the beautiful Persian text so exquisitely 
 printed. 
 
 M. Nicolas argues eloquently in favor of the 
 theory that Omar was a sufi,* and he loses no 
 opportunity, either in his notes or in parenthetical 
 interpolations, to emphasize his favorite doctrine 
 that the fervid addresses to his mistress are in 
 reality prayers to the Divinity, that the intoxica- Omar's 
 tion of the wine-cup, which the poet exalts into a symbolism 
 religion, is only the hyperbolical symbol of absorp- 
 tion into divine contemplation. In fact, Nicolas 
 
 * " La doctrine des soufis, presque aussi ancienne que celle 
 da l'Islamisme, enseigne à atteindre, par le mépris absolu des 
 choses d'ici-bas, par une constante contemplation des choses 
 célestes et par l'abnégation de soi-même, à la suprême béati- 
 tude, qui consiste à entrer en communication directe avec 
 Dieu." 
 
 5
 
 lxvi Introduction. 
 
 takes a diametrically opposite view to that of Tom 
 Moore, who says flippantly enough : — 
 
 "A Persian's Heaven is easily made: — 
 T is but black eyes and lemonade." 
 
 The Mystic It certainly becomes us matter-of-fact Westerners 
 interpre- to be very chary of expressing an opinion as to 
 tation t ] ie interpretation of Omar, or, indeed, any Oriental 
 
 poet. How far we are justified in following M. 
 Nicolas in his views of the mystic meaning of 
 Omar's most extravagant expressions, and in 
 avoiding the natural shock at their apparent 
 impiety by taking shelter under the word "eso- 
 teric," is a question. But the Gulshan-i-Rdz 
 says : — 
 
 " The mystic license bears three several states : — 
 Annihilation, drunkenness, the trance 
 Of amorous longing. They who recognize 
 These three know well what time and place 
 To use these words and meaning to assign." 
 
 And FitzGerald himself thus translates a similar 
 justification of Omar's unreproved boast of sensu- 
 ality. It is from Attâr : — 
 
 " Who is meet 
 Shall enter and with unreproved Feet 
 (Ev'n as he might upon the waters walk) 
 The Presence-room, and in the Presence talk 
 With such unbridled License as shall seem 
 To the Uninitiated to blaspheme."
 
 Introduction. lxvii 
 
 Nothing is more unfair than to judge a poet's 
 life by his poems, unless it be to attribute to an 
 actor the character which his duties call liim to 
 assume. There is no inherent contradiction be- No contra- 
 tvveen Omar in his Algebra piously calling upon diction 
 Allah to help and inspire him in solving equations, 
 and Omar, on the occasion of his wine-cup being 
 overturned by a sudden breeze, improvising a 
 Rubâ'iy in which he charges Allah with being 
 drunk ! * The greater the apparent contradiction, 
 the greater probability of the Rubâ'iy having an 
 esoteric sense ; and the late Amelia B. Edwards, in Amelia B. 
 her review | of Vedder's Illustrations, — which, by Edwards 
 the way, may be considered, next to FitzGerald's, 
 the most inspired of all the translations of Omar, — 
 may be quite right in calling Omar " a sufi of 
 Sufis, a mystic of mystics." It does not stand to 
 reason that Omar, the learned astronomer, honored 
 at court, yet preferring the quiet life of a recluse, 
 and rounding out the full period of his days, should 
 have at the same time been guilty of breaking all 
 the commands of the Law. 
 
 We may, therefore, raise an issue with the Rev. 
 E. H. Plumtre, J who, after comparing the anony- 
 mous Koheleth with Omar, says : — 
 
 " The life of Omar Khayyam, so far as we know, jj. H. Plum- 
 did not end, as we have reason to believe that of tre's criti- 
 Koheleth and even of Heine did, in a return to truer cism of 
 thoughts of the great enigma. It will be admitted, Omar 
 
 * See Appendix I.I. 
 
 f London Academy, Nov. 29, 1884. 
 
 J Ecclesiastes, London, 1SS1.
 
 Introduction. 
 
 however, that it is not without interest to trace, under 
 so many varieties of form and culture, the identity of 
 thought and feeling to which an undisciplined imagina- 
 tion, brooding over that enigma and seeking refuge in 
 sensual indulgence from the thought that it is insol- 
 The world uble, sooner or later leads. The poets and thinkers of 
 problem the world might indeed almost be classified according 
 
 to the relation in which they stand to that world prob- 
 lem which Reason finds itself thus impotent to solve. 
 Some there are, like Homer and the unknown author of 
 the ' Niebelungen Lied,' who in their healthy objectivity 
 seem never to have known its burden. Some, like 
 yEschylus, Dante, Milton, Keble, have been protected 
 against its perilous attacks by the faith which they had 
 inherited and to which they clung without the shadow 
 of a doubt. Some, like Epicurus himself, and Mon- 
 taigne, have rested in a supreme tranquillity. Some, 
 like Sophocles, Vergil, Shakespeare, Goethe, have 
 passed through it, not to the serenity of a clearer faith, 
 but to the tranquillity of the supreme Artist, dealing 
 with it as an element in their enlarged experience. 
 Some, like Lucretius, Omar Khayyam, Leopardi, and 
 in part Heine, have yielded to its fatal spell, and have 
 ' died and made no sign,' after nobler or ignobler 
 fashion. Others, to whom the world owes more, have 
 fought and overcome, and have rested in the faith of a 
 Divine Order which will at last assert itself, of a Divine 
 Education of which the existence of the enigma, as 
 forming part of man's probation and discipline, is itself 
 The victory a material element ; of this victory the writer of the 
 of faith Book of Job and Tennyson present the earliest and 
 
 the latest phases. An intermediate position may be 
 claimed, not the less poetical in its essence because its 
 outward form was not that of poetry, for the writer of 
 Ecclesiastes, as in Later times for the Pensées of Pascal." 
 
 The 
 
 serenity 
 of the artist
 
 ment of the 
 Rubaiyât 
 
 Introduction. lxix 
 
 Nicolas follows the Persian order and arrange- The 
 ment of the Rubaiyât, whereby they follow one ^ rr ^f e ^ 
 another not in accordance with any logical se- 
 quence of thought, but simply as the alphabetical 
 ending of the rhyming syllables chances to bring 
 them together. This formal informality, this de- 
 liberate hodge-podge of mingled wit and wisdom 
 and apparent impiety and complaints of fortune 
 and praise of wine is not without its charm: it 
 quite coincides with our idea of Omar relieving 
 the strain of his scientific studies by throwing off 
 as the flashes of mental and moral moods these 
 occasional exuberances of his genius. 
 
 It has ever been one of the delights of genius to 
 make itself misunderstood by mediocrity. The 
 Saviour frequently took pains to say things that 
 he knew would shock and stagger the Scribes and 
 Pharisees. Many a man has revelled in the reputa- 
 tion of being worse than he knew that he really 
 was. And the more one studies Omar Khayyam, 
 the more evident it grows that above and be- 
 yond the many quatrains which must necessarily 
 bear a mystical interpretation, there are not a 
 few which exhibit a bravado easily accounting 
 for the unfriendly testimony borne by some of 
 Omar's biographers in regard to his irreligious 
 behavior. 
 
 In some of the later appendices to the present 
 volume an attempt has been made to weave into 
 a sort of consistency a variety of Rubaiyât throw- 
 ing his strangely contradictory character as it were 
 into autobiographical relief.
 
 lxx Introduction. 
 
 However unsafe it may be to draw conclusions 
 from Omar's poetic sentiments, we may read a 
 n«po-<ôv lesson of self-restraint in his style. We somehow 
 
 •f|\ioß\T|To\>s look to what Euripides the human calls " the sun- 
 irXaKas burnt steppes of the Persians " as the home of ex- 
 
 travagant metaphors and unrestrained fancies. 
 Omar's con- Omar had no sign of the ordinary floweriness 
 ciseness of his fellow-poets. Nor did he sin by exuberance 
 
 Sir William of production. Sir William Jones, in his "Essay 
 Jones on the Poetry of the Eastern Nations," * says : 
 
 " There is a Manuscript at Oxford, containing the 
 lh<es of an hundred and thirty-fii'e of the finest 
 Persian poets -, most of whom left very ample collec- 
 tions of their poems behind them : but the versifiers 
 
 * Complete Works, vol. iv., London, 1799. It is doubtful 
 if Sir William translated any of Omar's Rubäiydt ; but his 
 own "Ode Persica," beginning, 
 
 iam rosa purpureum caput 
 explicat. adsit amid, 
 
 is quite in the Persian poet's manner, and there are Omar 
 Khayydmesque touches in Number III, entitled "Altera," 
 especially the lines : — 
 
 affer scyplios, et dulci ridentis men' . . . 
 
 iniuriosœ sperne fortuna 
 
 minas. . . . 
 
 sparge, puer liquidas 
 
 vini rubescentis rosas, 
 
 a > da calices novo s 
 
 ut placida madid us 
 oblivione perfruar. 
 
 It forms a queer marriage of Omar's thought and Horace's, 
 or rather Catullus's, form.
 
 Introduction. lxxi 
 
 and mode? ate poets, if Horace will allow any such 
 men to exist, are without number in Persia." 
 
 Among the MSS. preserved in Berlin there is No 
 one containing fifteen hundred by an unknown received 
 Subhany, or Sabâhi, who is known to have written e 
 upwards of fifteen thousand Rubâîyât ! Omar's 
 very conciseness gives him distinction, but his 
 manner was not hard to imitate. It is very unfor- 
 tunate that there is not, and probably never can 
 be, a textus recepti/s of his poems, and it is there- 
 fore impossible to determine how many of the 
 twelve hundred attributed to him are his; but the 
 most lenient critics consider it doubtful if five 
 hundred ever proceeded from his pen, and more 
 careful scholars think the number much less. 
 Copyists, especially those who disapproved of his 
 sentiments, interpolated contradictory quatrains, 
 and it seems impossible to determine whether 
 the opposing sentiments which are often found 
 in juxtaposition are typical of varying moods, or 
 are impudent additions by alien hands. 
 
 At all events, each Rubâ'iy is a separate poem, 
 and, however composed, finds its place in the 
 manuscripts in accordance with its alphabetical 
 arrangement and not its content. 
 
 The late M. J. Darmesteter describes the Ruba'iy The Ru- 
 as a poem complete in itself, with its own unity of bà'iy, or 
 form and idea, and when wielded by a genuine poet l uatram 
 unequalled in force by any other kind of Persian 
 verse, the repetition of the rhymes enveloping and 
 accentuating the silence of the third line, which is 
 generally left blank, producing harmonies and con-
 
 lxxii Introduction. 
 
 trasting sounds calculated to give a peculiar relief 
 to the harmonies and contrasts of the idea. 
 
 M. Darmesteter also recognized the distinction 
 between the drinking-songs of Europe and those of 
 Persia. The latter, he says, " are a song of revolt 
 against the Koran, against bigots, against oppres- 
 sion of Nature and reason through the religious 
 law. The drinking man is for the poet the very 
 symbol of the emancipated man; for the mystic, 
 wine is still more: it is the symbol of the divine 
 intoxication." * 
 Protest It is not alone his drinking-poems which embody 
 
 this protest. Protest may be read in nearly every 
 stanza: protest of the free-thinker against bigotry; 
 protest of the fair-weighing mind against hypocrisy ; 
 protest of the creature against the Creator, of the 
 pot against the Potter, of life against Death. 
 
 FitzGerald seized upon certain phases of this 
 protest and made his " immortal Paraphrase " (to 
 
 * Les Origines de la Poésie persane, Paris, 18S7. II is 
 words are : "Le quatrain est tout un poème qui a son unité 
 de forme et d'idée; manié par un vrai poète, c'est le genre 
 le plus puissant de la poésie persane. La répercussion des 
 rimes, enveloppant et accentuant le silence du vers blanc, pro- 
 duit des harmonies et des contrastes de sons qui donnent un 
 relief étrange aux harmonies et aux contrastes de l'idée. . . . 
 
 " Les chansons à boire de l'Europe ne sont que des 
 chansons d'ivrogne; celles de la Perse sont un chant de ré- 
 volte contre le Coran, contre les bigots, contre l'oppression de 
 la nature et de la raison par la loi religieuse. L'homme qui 
 boit est pour le poète le symbole de l'homme émancipé ; pour 
 le mystique, levin est plus encore, c'est le symbole de l'ivresse 
 divine."
 
 Introduction. Ixxiii 
 
 use the words of his friend Groome) the " utterance 
 
 of his soul's deepest doubts." 
 
 There is one other notable characteristic of The 
 
 Omar which may be suitably mentioned here, modesty of 
 
 That is his modesty. Once or twice indeed he Omar and 
 
 introduces his takhallus of Khayyam, or the Tent- 
 
 lators 
 maker, into a Rubâ'iy, as the Persian poets were 
 
 wont to do in the case of their Ghazels ; but there 
 
 is nothing manifest of that tremendous burning 
 
 personality which makes Dante stand out so 
 
 vividly in his works. If his thought were not so 
 
 concrete, it might be said that his aphorisms were 
 
 generalities. 
 
 The next man may appropriate them : the whole 
 modern world may echo them, and lay claim to 
 them as expressing our modem thought. Omar 
 himself is wonderfully evasive. But we remember 
 how he was offered wealth and position, and chose 
 work and retirement. This story accords well 
 with the inherent self-effacement that he shows in 
 his quatrains. 
 
 His modesty was, so to speak, contagious. Of 
 his best-known, though not most faithful exponent, 
 it has been quoted in application, — 
 
 "Of every noble work, the silent part is best." 
 
 Nicolas's preface has none of the proverbial 
 Gallic boastfulness. The egotistical note is lack- 
 ing in nearly every instance of the score of scholars 
 who have tried their hands at turning the Persian 
 into modern tongues. Nor is the one American 
 translator any exception : it is a temptation to
 
 lxxiv Introduction. 
 
 quote his delightful letter disclaiming special merit 
 for his work, which certainly at its best is faithful, 
 ingenious, and poetic. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Leaving out of account the Hungarian version, 
 
 which is undated, and follows strictly the order of 
 
 Nicolas, the next attempt after Nicolas to translate 
 
 the entire work of Omar Khayyam is believed 
 
 to have been made by a German, — Friedrich 
 
 Bodenstedt. 
 
 Friedrich Friedrich Martinus von Bodenstedt was born 
 
 Mart, von April 22, 1 8 19, at the little town of Peine. He at 
 
 Bodenstedt, firgt mtent i ec i to a d op t a mercantile calling, but the 
 
 1 fiSl 
 
 attractions of a learned career led him to the 
 University. He was successively at Göttingen, 
 Munich, and Berlin, where he devoted his attention 
 to modern languages, history, and philosophy. 
 After graduation, in 1840, he went to Moscow to 
 become tutor to one of the numerous Princes 
 Galitsin. He took advantage of his stay in Russia 
 to master the language, and was thus enabled to 
 acquaint German readers with some of the most 
 famous of the Russian poets. After publishing 
 translations from Kozlof, Pushkin, and Lermontof, 
 and from the beautiful songs of the Ukraina, he 
 went to Tiflis to take the direction of an academy, 
 at which he taught Latin and French. He trav- 
 elled extensively throughout that romantic region, 
 and after his return, in 184S, published several 
 books relating to the Caucasus. He was engaged
 
 Introduction. Ixxv 
 
 in editorial work for several years at Trieste and 
 Bremen ; his Russian translations brought him to 
 the attention of King Maximilian, who summoned 
 him to Munich, where he occupied the chair of 
 Slavonic language and literature, and later lectured 
 on old English. In 1866 he took charge of the 
 Court theatre at Meiningen, and the following year 
 was raised to the nobility. In 1881 he visited the 
 United States. He was the founder of the " Täg- 
 liche Rundschau." In 1S78 Bodenstedt printed an His 
 article on Omar Khayyam in Spemann's annual translation 
 "Für Kunst und Leben." This was illustrated by of0mar 
 a number of character specimens of his Rubâiyât. 
 When the whole work, consisting of 467 stanzas, 
 was complete, he submitted it to the director of the 
 Oriental Academy at Berlin, Hofrat von Barb, 
 begging him to pass it through the sharpest fire of 
 criticism. It was cordially received by the press. 
 Two editions were called for during the year of its 
 publication, but the rapid sale did not continue, and 
 it was not until eight years later that the fourth 
 edition made its appearance. 
 
 Bodenstedt makes an attempt to classify the Boden- 
 Rubâiyât under several headings, such as " The stedt's 
 Divinity of the Poet," " The God of the Koran and classifica- 
 his Prophet," " Appearance and Reality," " The tion 
 Bounds of Knowledge," "Fate and Freedom," 
 " Springtime and Love," " The Poet and his Op- 
 ponents," "World and Life," and " The Poet with 
 the Wine cup." But the classification is not very 
 strict, and many of those in one subdivision 
 might well find place in another, or be included
 
 Ixxvi Introduction. 
 
 in the tenth chapter, which is entitled " Hetero- 
 geneous." 
 
 Neither was Herr Bodenstedt careful to follow 
 the quatrain disposition of versification. Out of 
 about 395 which are quatrains, only fifty-eight are 
 in the strict form of the Rubâ'iy, with the first two 
 and last lines rhyming. Some of these, however, 
 admirably represent the ingenious complicated 
 quintuple and quadruple rhymes of the original. 
 
 Bodenstedt also translated, among innumerable 
 other things, the Persian poems of Hafiz. His own 
 " Lieder Mirza Schaffy's " was perhaps his most 
 popular work ; some years ago it reached its 139th 
 thousand, and it has been translated into many 
 languages, even into Hebrew. He died at Wies- 
 baden, April 18, 1892. 
 
 Q. ra f A translation of 336 Rubâiyât, thirty or more of 
 
 von Schack, which seem to have been made from the English 
 1878 of FitzGerald, preceded Bodenstedt's by two or 
 
 three years. The author was the learned Adolf 
 Friedrich Graf von Schack, a scion of a family 
 that prides itself on being the oldest in Germany. 
 Von Schack was born August 2, 1815, at Briisewitz, 
 near Schwerin. He studied at the Universities of 
 Bonn, Heidelberg, and Berlin, dividing his atten- 
 tion between jurisprudence and languages. In 
 1834 he accepted a position in the Kammergericht 
 at Berlin. Shortly afterward he took a long jour- 
 ney through Italy, Sicily, Egypt, Syria, Turkey,
 
 Schack 
 
 Introduction. lxxvii 
 
 Greece, and Spain. On his return he entered the Graf 
 service of the Duke of Mecklenburg, whom he Y on 
 accompanied to Italy and Constantinople as Cham- 
 berlain and Legationsrat. In 1849 he went to the 
 College of the Union as Deputy (Bevollmächtiger), 
 and later became chargé d'affaires at Berlin, where 
 he studied Sanskrit, Persian, and Arabic. In 1852 
 he quitted the service of the State, and after living 
 for a time on his estates in Mecklenburg, he spent 
 two years in Spain, investigating the Arabic or 
 Moorish occupancy of that country. The result 
 of these studies was his Arabian Poetry and Art 
 in Spain and Sicily,* and his great work on the 
 Spanish Theatre. After 1S55 he lived in Munich, 
 where he wrote a large number of original poems, 
 as well as translations of Oriental works, including 
 Firdusi, Jami, and Kalidasa. Many of his works 
 were popular, and went through successive editions. 
 In 1S76 he was made hereditary Count by the 
 Emperor Wilhelm, and died at Rome, April 14, 
 1894. A number of books have been published 
 since his death treating of his literary activity and 
 his services as poet and translator. It seems to 
 be the general impression that Graf von Schack's 
 Omar is the most poetical of the German versions, 
 and the nearest to FitzGerald's in genius, yet it is 
 true that not quite fifty of his quatrains have the 
 characteristic Persian form. 
 
 England may claim the credit of the next and 
 by far the completest translation of Omar. In 
 
 * Poesie und Kunst der Araber in Spanien und Sicilien.
 
 lxxviii 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 Edward 
 Henry 
 Whinfield, 
 1882, 1883 
 
 1882 Mr. Edward Henry Whinfield published a 
 volume of less than a hundred pages, containing 
 253 of the Rubâiyât rendered into the same form 
 of English verse which FitzGerald had made 
 classic. The following year he brought out an 
 edition containing a round five hundred, accom- 
 panied by the Persian text facing the transla- 
 tions. Of this great undertaking "The Academy" 
 said : — 
 
 " Though he cannot compete on equal terms 
 with Mr. FitzGerald as a translator of the first 
 excellence, Mr. Whinfield has executed a difficult 
 task with considerable success, and his version 
 contains much that will be new to those who know 
 only Mr. Fitzgerald's delightful selections." 
 
 The " Saturday Review " echoed this praise 
 with these words: — 
 
 " Mr. Whinfield's version, if less poetical, is the 
 more exact and scholarly ; " while a critic (Mr. C. 
 E. Wilson) proclaimed in a later number of " The 
 Academy" that " Mr. Whinfield is facile princess 
 as an editor and translator of Umar-i-Khaiyâm." 
 
 Mr. Whinfield, who was born in 1836, and 
 graduated at Magdalen College, Oxford, made his 
 practical acquaintance with Persian while he was 
 connected with the Indian Civil Service at Bengal. 
 He is also favorably known as one of the transla- 
 tors of the Gulshan-i-Raz, or Mystic Rose-Garden 
 of Shabistari, which he published with the Persian 
 text and copious notes. 
 
 Six years later Justin Huntly McCarthy, Mem- 
 ber of Parliament for Athlone, brought out a limited
 
 Introduction. lwix 
 
 edition containing 466 of the Rubâiyât translated Justin 
 into English prose. Although somewhat promi- Huntly 
 nent in political life, perhaps in part through his McCarth y> 
 father's distinguished name, Mr. McCarthy at this 
 time was only about twenty-eight years of age; 
 not the least charm of the book is the buoyant, 
 almost boyish enthusiasm which permeates the 
 long introduction. Mr. McCarthy evidently cast 
 his eyes now and then on the French version of 
 M. Nicolas ; but whatever fault may be found with 
 its accuracy, or with its occasional use of strained 
 and affected words (as, for instance, when he ren- 
 ders the line, "Those mighty and pompous Lords, 
 so orgulous in their estates "), it must be confessed 
 that he has marvellously improved upon the often 
 stale and flat rendering of the French Dragoman 
 to his Majesty the Shah. Mr. McCarthy's volume 
 is printed in capital letters from beginning to end, 
 and he uses no accent marks. The capitalization, 
 therefore, of the Rubâiyât taken from his version 
 for use in the present edition is simply a matter of 
 taste, and he is not responsible for it. It may also 
 be mentioned properly here that his translations 
 are not numbered, but with the exception of the 
 first and last pages are arranged three to a page. 
 They are here numbered for convenience of refer- 
 ence : in the table the page numbering is added. 
 
 The United States, besides having furnished John 
 the only adequate plastic representation of Omar Leslie 
 
 Khayyam, may claim a worthy translator of the Garner > 
 
 . "* 1S8S 
 
 original in the person of Mr. John Leslie Garner, 
 
 of Milwaukee, Wisconsin. His neat little volume,
 
 lxxx Introduction. 
 
 published in 1888, contains 152 quatrains, which he 
 calls " Strophes." In his preface he says-: — 
 
 " The collection might have been made much larger, 
 but it was deemed inadvisable, as Omar's themes are not 
 many, and the ever-recurring Wine, Rose, and Nightin- 
 gale are somewhat cloying to Occidental senses." 
 
 If Mr. Garner's book had not been out of print 
 and unlikely to be reissued in the same form, — 
 since he is engaged in making a new version, — it 
 would perhaps have been advisable in the selec- 
 tions chosen for the present edition to disregard 
 his rather erratic and whimsical capitalization. 
 This would also have been in the line of the trans- 
 lator's preference ; but having begun with a view 
 of representing the various versions practically as 
 they appeared, it seemed right to follow copy with 
 religious accuracy. If it had not militated against 
 the artistic appearance of the page, the same rule 
 would have applied to Mr. McCarthy's Rubâiydt 
 and the German versions. In the case of the 
 German versions, since it was thought wise not 
 to employ the German text, I did not hesitate to 
 follow the reformed spelling authorized by govern- 
 mental rescript. 
 Periodical It remains to say a few words about the periodi- 
 
 literature C al literature on the subject of Omar Khayyam. 
 No attempt is made to furnish a complete bibliog- 
 raphy of this enormous mass of material. Had 
 the German reviews been added, the bulk of the 
 book would have been greatly increased. The 
 plan of the Bibliography embraced copious selec-
 
 Introduction. lxxxi 
 
 tions from the books and reviews catalogued, and 
 it is iioped that this encyclopedic collection of 
 judgments will in a measure atone for the lack of 
 completeness, — a completeness which, however 
 complete, will inevitably fail of completeness ! 
 
 Preparation for the English Civil Service em- 
 braces a knowledge of the Oriental languages, ami 
 it was natural that some of the Persian scholars 
 who entered that branch should be attracted by the 
 Persian poets. Triibner's Oriental Catalogue well 
 illustrates the literary activity manifested by her 
 Majesty's servants. Many articles, however, are 
 buried from general knowledge in the volumes of 
 the " Calcutta Review" and other Indian journals. 
 I may mention the names of P. Whalley, Whitley 
 Stokes, H. G. Keene, C. J. Pickering, and Mr. 
 Michael Kerney. 
 
 Whitley Stokes, C.S. I., C. I.E.,LL.D.,D. C.L., Whitley 
 was born in Dublin in 1830, graduated at Trinity Stokes, 
 College, was admitted to the bar at the Inner 
 Temple, went to India, where he rose from acting 
 Administrator-General at Madras to be President 
 of the Indian law commission and Honorary 
 Fellow of Jesus College, Oxford. He is princi- 
 pally known for his great services in the study of 
 Keltic literature ; but he also turned his attention 
 to Persian, and in 1885 published a few translations 
 from. Omar Khayyam. 
 
 Mr. Henry George Keene, C. I. E., was born in Henry 
 1825 at Haileybury, where his father, the Rev. H. George 
 G. Keene, Professor of Arabic and Persian, was Keene 
 stationed. He studied at Rugby and Oxford, and 
 6
 
 lxxxii 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 fitted under his father for the Bengal Civil Service, 
 which he entered in 1847. He became magistrate 
 and collector, and examiner for the India Civil 
 Service. He is the author of many volumes, 
 including various poems written in India. After 
 his retirement from the service, he prepared two 
 articles on Omar Khayyam, one for " Fraser's," the 
 other for the "Calcutta Review." Both of them 
 were copiously enriched with metrical translations 
 from the " Rubäiyat." They will be found in 
 Appendix XLVIII. 
 Michael The services also of Mr. Michael Kerney, whose 
 
 Kerney work, though not his name, is known to thousands 
 
 of readers, deserve to be recognized. It was he 
 who furnished the admirable life of FitzGerald for 
 the first variorum edition of the " Rubäiyat," and 
 it was he who for the same memorial edition, sug- 
 gested by Mr. Quaritch, made metrical renderings 
 of fifty quatrains, — the first indeed to represent 
 in English the rhythm of the original Persian. 
 With that beautiful modesty which I have once 
 before remarked as characterizing Omar and his 
 translators, all this brilliant labor he has veiled 
 under the anonymity of the initials " M. K." 
 Mrs. H. M. The first important attempt to make an ex- 
 Cadell, tended exposition of Omar's poetry and philosophy 
 
 1879 as contrasted with FitzGerald's " Poem on Omar " 
 
 was the work of a woman, Mrs. Jessie E. Cadell, 
 who was born in Scotland in 1844, and died in 
 1884. When quite young she married H. M. 
 Cadell, an officer in the British army, and accom- 
 panied him to India. She made herself mistress
 
 Introduction. lxxxiii 
 
 of Persian, and labored assiduously in the élucida 
 tion of Omar. The fruits of her studies were 
 embodied in an article modestly signed J. E. C, 
 which appeared in " Fraser's Magazine" for May, 
 1S79 (Vol. 99, pp. 650-659). The gist of the 
 article follows. 
 
 V. 
 
 THE TRUE OMAR KHAYYAM. 
 
 " As very beautiful English verse, no one can doubt Fitz- 
 that Mr. Fitzgerald's Khayam fully deserves its fame. Gerald's 
 As a translation, we are less satisfied with it. While Rubâiyât 
 acknowledging that the translator has been on the a P° em on 
 whole successful in catching the sound of the Persian ° mar 
 lines, wonderfully so in setting thoughts and phrases 
 from the Persian in his English verses, we contend 
 that this is hardly enough to satisfy us in the transla- 
 tion of a set of epigrams. It is a poem on Omar, 
 rather than a translation of his work, and its very 
 faults have, to English readers, taken nothing from 
 its charm, and added much to its popularity. Its 
 inexactness has allowed for the infusion of a modern 
 element, which we believe to exist in the Persian only 
 in the sense in which the deepest questions of human 
 life are of all time. Its occasional obscurity, too, has 
 rather helped than hindered the impression of the 
 whole. People expect obscurity in a Persian writer of 
 the twelfth century — even like it — as it leaves dark 
 corners which the mind can light up any way it pleases, 
 and regard what it finds there as one of the peculiar 
 beauties of Eastern thought. These points have less
 
 lxxxiv 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 attraction for those who, knowing Khayam in the ori 
 ginal, have learnt to value him for himself. 
 Omar's " It is true that there are obscurities in the Persian, 
 
 meaning but they are in great part technical difficulties. ... It 
 
 is not always easy to know exactly what Khayam has 
 said : but that known, there is not much difficulty in 
 seeing what he means. . . . He may be said to stand 
 midway between the age of Firdusi, and that of the 
 great Sufi poets. He still writes the pure simple 
 Persian of the former, but he gives us no narrative 
 poetry, and occupies himself with the problems of life 
 and death, sin and fate, past, present, and future, 
 which, dealt with unsatisfactorily to Persian minds by 
 Mohammedan theology, gave rise to the mysticism of 
 Attar, Jelal-ud-din Rumi and Sâadi. He is the sole 
 representative of the age of free thought, which is said 
 to be everywhere the forerunner of mysticism. Though 
 he is certainly not orthodox, he seems to us more of 
 a doubter than a disbeliever. lie questions, mocks, 
 and rebels, but produces nothing positive of his own. 
 However, we are not in a position to say even this 
 with certainty. lie wrote very little, and that little 
 has been so mixed up with later additions as to be 
 difficult to recognize. What we feel most sure of 
 His varying reads like the product of leisure hours : his moods 
 moods vary, he is not always consistent ; lie will say the same 
 
 thing in two or three shapes, or will contradict himself 
 in quatrains which we cannot help believing to be 
 genuine if there ever existed a Khayam. . ." 
 
 After remarking on the various MSS. and defin- 
 ing the Rubâ'iy, Mrs. Cadell goes on to give vari- 
 ous translations which she says are "as near as 
 possible literal, and come from what she believes 
 to be the best reading of the given rubâi."
 
 Introduction. lxxxv 
 
 First she quotes two " from Nicholas " (sic), — 
 that is, from the Persian original as given by 
 Nicolas : — 
 
 ' They have gone, and of the gone no one comes hack (227) 
 
 From behind the secret veil, to bring you word ; 
 That matter will be opened to your need, not 
 
 prayers : 
 For what is prayer without faith and earnest "longing? 
 
 ' Go, thou, cast dust on the heaven above us, ( 22 s) 
 
 Drink ye wine, and beauty seek to-day ! 
 What use in adoration ? What need for prayer? 
 For of all the gone no one comes again.' 
 
 " Here we have in the latter verse something very 
 like a contradiction of the former, certainly written in 
 a different mood, possibly by another hand. It is the 
 last which has the genuine Khayam flavour. 
 
 " Mr. Fitzgerald's No. 69 (of the 1872 edition), — 
 
 'Strange is it not? that of the myriads who,' — 
 
 is rather the expression of an idea found in many rabais 
 than the translation of any one, and it lacks the point. 
 It would be easy enough to put ' the door of darkness ' The door of 
 into Persian, but we have not found it there. Khayam darkness 
 does not stop to wonder, but he does make some prac- 
 tical suggestions. He says, in many shapes, ' While 
 you live enjoy all that is.' The ' following, which 
 is as close as any to Mr. Fitzgerald,' may be taken 
 as a specimen of the rest : — 
 
 ' Of all the trav'llers on that weary road, 
 Where's one returned to bring us news of it ? 
 Take heed that here, in feigned goodness, you 
 Pass nothing pleasant by — you '11 not come back.'
 
 Ixxxvi Introduction. 
 
 "... He mocks, questions, laments, enjoys; is a 
 person of varying moods, strong feelings, and remark- 
 able boldness; but he has some sort of belief at the 
 bottom of it all. He has no doubt about his enjoy- 
 ment of the pleasant things round him, while they 
 last. He can chafe against the sorrows of life and its 
 inevitable end, the folly of the hypocrites, and the 
 cruelty of fate ; but he never doubts the existence of 
 an oppressor, nor questions the reality of sorrow any 
 
 The charms more than that of death. He can feel strongly the 
 
 of nature charms of nature : — 
 
 ' The day is sweet, its air not cold nor hot, 
 From the garden's cheek the clouds have washed the 
 
 dew; 
 The bulbul softly to the yellow rose 
 Makes his lament, and says that we must drink.' 
 
 " Again : — 
 
 ' The new day's breath is sweet on the face of the 
 rose : 
 A lovely face among the orchards too is sweet ; 
 But all your talk of yesterday is only sad. 
 Be glad, leave yesterday, to-day 's so sweet.' 
 
 "This is on spring-time : — 
 
 ' To-day when gladness overpowers the earth, 
 Each living heart towards the desert turns ; 
 On every branch shine Moses' hands to-day, 
 In every loud breath breathes Jesus' soul.'
 
 Introduction. lxxxvii 
 
 "Here is another kind of pleasure : — 
 
 ' Drink wine, for it is everlasting life ; 
 It is the very harvest of our youth 
 In time of roses, wine, and giddy friends. 
 Be happy, drink, for that is life indeed.' 
 
 " Of the love verses of the collection the following are Love 
 specimens : — quatrains 
 
 ' When my heart caught thy fragrance on the breeze, 
 It left me straight and followed after thee. 
 Its sad master it no more remembers. 
 Once loving thee, thy nature it partakes. 
 
 ' Each drop of blood which trickles from mine eye 
 Will cause a tulip to spring freshly up, 
 And the heart-sick lover, seeing that, 
 Will get hope of thy good faith. 
 
 ' For love of thee I '11 bear all kinds of blame, 
 Be woe on me if I should break this faith. 
 If all life long thy tyranny holds good, 
 Short will the time from now to judgment be. 
 
 ' Love which is feigned has no lust re ; 
 Like a half-dead fire it burns not : 
 Nights, days, months, years, to the lover 
 Bring him no rest or peace, no food or sleep.' 
 
 "Both of these last might be claimed by those who 
 hold the mystic interpretation of Omar's wine and love 
 as proof of their theory. He certainly wrote little 
 about love. His sense of the beauty of nature is 
 marred perpetually by the thought of the death and 
 decay in store for all.
 
 lxxxviii Introduction. 
 
 See the morning breeze has torn the garment of the 
 
 rose. 
 With its loveliness the nightingale is wildly glad. 
 Sit in the rose's shade, but know, that many roses, 
 Fair as this is, have fallen on earth and mixed with it.' 
 
 " Another in much the same mood : — 
 
 'The cloud's veil rests on the rose's face still, 
 Deep in my heart is longing for that wine. 
 Sleep ye not yet, this is no time for sleep. 
 Give wine, beloved, for there 's sunshine still.' 
 
 Wine his " Wine is the favourite theme ; we get wearied with 
 
 favourite the constant recurrence of the praise of wine, and 
 theme with exhortations to drink and be drunken, through 
 
 hundreds of musical lines ; till at last, without agreeing 
 with those who look on it all as simply a figure for 
 Divine love, ' the wine of the love of God,' we come to 
 regard it as representing more than mere sensual 
 pleasure. . . . Wine parties were in fact the nurseries 
 of all the intellectual life of the time, which was un- 
 connected with religion, and did much to counteract 
 the dulness of orthodox Mohammedan life. So little 
 growth to be got in what was lawful, it was small 
 wonder that stirring minds turned from it ; and as in- 
 cluding so much else that they valued, we find these 
 idolising the pleasure which seemed so fertile as a 
 metaphor for the rest. This seems to me to account 
 for a good deal of Khayam's wine. 
 
 " Still there are some good quatrains which seem un- 
 deniably mystic, and modern explanations given in the 
 East point that way. . . . The reiterated 'Drink, you 
 will sleep in the dust,' seems to show that the wine was 
 something practical. ' Drink, the past clay comes not
 
 Introduction. Ixxxix 
 
 back again;' 'time will not return on its steps ; ' 
 'other moons will rise;' 'no one stays or returns,' — 
 all this would be without point if the wine were some 
 draught of love, or longing for the divine which might 
 have been enjoyed equally in any stage of being. The 
 same maybe said for the following: 'lam the slave 
 of that coming moment when the Saki says, " Take 
 another cup," and I shall not be able.' This moment 
 is the hour of death, putting an end to human pleas- 
 ure in whatever shape our poet cared most for it. 
 
 " Khayam's view of death is coloured by a strong dash Omar 
 of materialism ; whatever he may think, he talks of Khayyam's 
 nothing but the death of the body — a kind of materi- material 
 alism common enough in Eastern thought, and which view of 
 even its mystics never escape. . . . He refers again and death 
 again to burial, the washing of the body, the making of 
 the bier, the loosening of joints, the separation of the 
 members, the mixing with earth, and the return to the 
 elements, — being used in the course of time by 
 the builder and the potter to build walls, porticos, and 
 palaces, to make jars, jugs, and pots: the future he 
 contemplates with most complacency is that of return- 
 ing to his old haunts and old friends in the form of a 
 wine jug, when he is sure the wine will revive some 
 sort of life in him. The grievance to him of death The 
 is not the dim future for his soul, but rather the leav. grievance 
 ing of pleasant things in his mouth and by his side. of leaving 
 When he thinks of the future, death is no trouble to P leasures 
 him : — ■ 
 
 ' I am not the man to fear to pass away, 
 That half to me better than this half seems; 
 God as a loan my life has given me ; 
 I '11 give it back when payment time shall come.
 
 xc Introduction. 
 
 "And another, which Mr. Fitzgerald's readers will 
 recognise : — 
 
 Rubil'iy ' In the sphere's circle, far in unseen depths, 
 
 Xlilll. Is a cup which to all is given in turn; 
 
 Sigh ye not then, when it to thy turn comes, 
 Its wine drink gladly, for 't is time to drink.' 
 
 Rubä'iy 
 XIX. 
 
 " Of these, the first is certainly genuine, the second 
 doubtful. But there is very little of this strain in pro- 
 portion to the talk about the decay of the body and its 
 afterwards serving natural purposes : — 
 
 1 Whenever there is a garden of tulips or roses, 
 Know that they grow from the red blood of kings ; 
 And every violet tuft which is springing 
 From earth, was once a mole on some fair cheek.' 
 
 " Or this : — 
 
 Ilubâ'iy ' As I mused in the workshop of the potter 
 
 XXXVIII. I saw the master standing by his wheel; 
 
 Boldly he made covers and handles for his jars 
 From the head of the king or the foot of the beggar.' 
 
 "The following is found in every MS. we have 
 seen : — 
 
 Rubâ'iy ' To the potter's shop yesterday I went, 
 
 LXXXVII. Noisy or mute, two thousand pots I saw, 
 
 There came a sudden shout from one of them — 
 
 " Where is the potter, the seller, the buyer of pots." ' 
 
 " We would call the reader's attention to stanzas 82, 
 83 and 87 of Mr. Fitzgerald's translation, for which 
 this one rubâi, beat out thin and otherwise freely dealt
 
 Intro tl act ion. xci 
 
 with, has served as foundation. We have so far .seen Pitz- 
 no other rubâi we could connect with Mr. Fitzgerald's Gerald's 
 from S3 to 88 inclusive. . . . invention 
 
 "... No. 66 [/ sent my soul through the invisible] is 
 found in all the oldest MSS. we have seen in this 
 shape : — 
 
 ' On the first day, my heart above the spheres 
 Was seeking pen and tablet, hell and heaven, 
 Till the right-thinking master said at last, 
 " Pen, tablet, heaven and hell are with thee." ' 
 
 " No. 67 [Heaven'' s (sic) but the bosom (sic) of fulfilled 
 desire] is also undoubtedly genuine, and, in its Persian 
 form, found in every copy we have seen, with one 
 exception : — 
 
 ' The universe is a girdle for our worn bodies, 
 The Oxus but a trace of our blood-stained tears ; 
 Hell is a spark from our senseless sorrow, 
 And heaven a breath from a moment of ease.' 
 
 " These translations are absolutely literal. We feel 
 dissatisfied with Mr. Fitzgerald's verses, fine as they 
 are, for in them we get some ideas the Persian lines do 
 not contain, and lose many that they do. 
 
 " The shadow on the darkness from which we have 
 come and to which we shall return, we seem to have 
 met with somewhere, but not in Khayam. We lose 
 the 'right-thinking master,' who is a striking feature 
 in the Persian in the one rubâi, and in the other we lose 
 the stupendous claim the Persian poet is making, as 
 well as the peculiar beauty of what he has to say of 
 heaven and hell.
 
 xcii Introduction. 
 
 " After this we shall not expect much deference from 
 Khayam to the religious system in which he had been 
 educated, nor much recognition of eternal conse- 
 quences to follow the keeping or breaking Mohamme- 
 Omar's dan laws ; what we wonder at is the heed he seems 
 
 penitential to take to them after all, and the presence of a rueful 
 mood semi-penitent strain in some very authentic verses. It 
 
 would seem that with all his boldness he never suc- 
 ceeded in convincing himself that he was in the right, 
 and that his attitude of mind towards God, the law, 
 and moral obligation, was that of rebellion, not nega- 
 tion. Hence what we have said about Fate. One of 
 his main ideas is Fate's cruelty, and his most frequent 
 state of mind the rebellious. This is his originality ; 
 others have moaned and lamented, he attacks and 
 boldly. Fate is immutable; he says : — 
 
 ' Long, long ago, what is to be was fixed, 
 The pen rests ever now from good and bad ; 
 That must be, which He fixed immutably, 
 And senseless is our grief and striving here.' 
 
 " In a cruder form : — 
 
 ' Whether you drink or not, if you are bound for hell 
 you will not enter heaven.' 
 
 The " wheel " Fate appears commonly under the title of the ' wheel 
 of heaven " of heaven,' and the doings of the wheel are very 
 unsatisfactory : — ■ 
 
 ' The tyrannous wheel which is set on high 
 Has never loosed hard knots for any man, 
 And when it sees a heart which bears a scar, 
 It adds another scar to that sore place.'
 
 Introduction. xciii 
 
 " Again : — 
 
 ' Never has a day been prosperous to me ; 
 Never has a breath blown sweetly towards me; 
 And never was my breath drawn in with joy, 
 But the same day my hand was tilled with grief.' 
 
 " But we doubt the authenticity of these ; beside man- 
 uscript argument the tone is too much of a lament. 
 Khayam prefers to accuse the wheel of being ' un- 
 grateful, unfaithful, and unkindly.' In the following 
 he deprecates its ill-will in a whimsical style, of which 
 we have other specimens : — 
 
 ' (J wheel, I am not content with thy turnings ; 
 Free me, I am not fit to be thy slave. 
 The fool and the unwise you favour most ; 
 Why not me too ? I am not overwise.' 
 
 " Fate favours fools, it is indifferent to the sighs of The 
 its victims, it rubs salt on wounds, it adds sore to sore, cruelty of 
 it delights in ruthlessly cutting short the moment when, Fate 
 by help of wine or love, a man has drawn in his breath 
 in ease ' that breath returns not.' It is fertile in devices 
 to cause and prolong suffering in life, and ever holds 
 death as a final blow over every head, — the one cer- 
 tainty amid the changing possibilities of both worlds. 
 
 " About the origin of things, the only fact of which 
 Khayam is quite sure is that they were not made to 
 please him. 
 
 ' About existence, O friend, why fret thee ? 
 And weary soul and heart with senseless thought ? 
 Enjoy it all, pass gaily through the world: 
 They took no counsel with thee at the first.'
 
 xciv Introduction. 
 
 " Far better it would have been not to have come at 
 all. ' If thuse who have not come only knew what we 
 endure from life, they would stay away.' 
 
 " Again : — 
 
 ' We come with anguish, we live in astonishment, 
 we go with pain, and we know not the use of this com- 
 ing, being, and going.' 
 
 " Stronger even than the above is the following : - 
 
 ' If coming had been of myself, I 'd not have come, 
 Or, if going was of myself, I would not go ; 
 But, best of all, if in this world of earth 
 Were no coming, no being, no going.' 
 
 No apparent " He is sad enough and we know of no outward cause 
 cause for for his sadness. When he speaks of his favourite 
 his sadness w ine, he says, ' Slander it not, it is not bitter: the bit- 
 terness is that of my life.'. . . After this we must either 
 suspect him of being sad for sheer idleness, or believe 
 that he was oppressed by the awfulness and weariness 
 of life and its mystery of evil to the extent of real 
 suffering. . . . The pleasant thing he sings of could not 
 help him much, in lessening the pains of doubt, or in 
 softening his discontent at the hypocrisy and wrong 
 about him. 
 "He says : — 
 
 ' Of the eternal secret none has loosed the knot, 
 Nor trod one single step outside himself. 
 I look from the pupil to the master, 
 And each one born of woman helpless see.
 
 Introduction. xcv 
 
 ' From deepest heart of earth to Saturn's height Ruba'iy 
 
 I solved all problems of the universe; XXXI. 
 
 I leapt out free from bonds of fraud and lies, 
 Yea every knot was loosed but that of Death. 
 
 ' Of the eternal past and future, why 
 Discourse ? they pass our powers of wit and will ; 
 There 's nought like wine in pleasant hours, be sure : 
 Of every tangle it doth loose the knots.' 
 
 " This last has the mocking tone in which he scouted at His tone 
 the learned of his day who chose to discourse of the of mockery- 
 past and future, of which they knew so very little. 
 They might not unfairly retort that his wine and cup- 
 bearer had not saved him from the sorrows of life. 
 However he mocks on : it is his pleasure. He mocks 
 at believers and unbelievers, priests and mystics ; and 
 when he comes to moral responsibility, he mocks at 
 the God in whom he believes, as it were, in spite of 
 himself. 
 
 " In the following quatrain he mocks at the Moslem 
 Paradise : — 
 
 ' They tell us in heaven that houris will be, 
 And also honey, sugar, and pure wine ; 
 Fill then the wine cup and place it in my hand, 
 Far better is one coin than boundless credit.' 
 
 " Here he uses the promise of the Koran as an excuse : 
 
 ' We hear of houris in heaven and fountains 
 That will run with honey and pure wine : 
 If here we worship these, what is the harm, 
 Since at the end of time we meet the same ? '
 
 XCV1 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 The Creator " It is no inanimate wheel of heaven which is ulti- 
 
 held respon- mately responsible for his sorrow, for he says, 'Do 
 
 sible not accuse the wheel of causing joy and sorrow, good 
 
 and evil, for verily it is more helpless than you are,' 
 
 and he holds the Creator responsible for evil as for the 
 
 rest. 
 
 ' Some God has fashioned thus my body's clay ; 
 He must have known the acts I should perform : 
 No sin of mine but comes from laws of his : 
 What reason then for burning fires at last ? ' 
 
 " He asks what is evil ? what is sin ? The law taught 
 
 him that some things were permitted, some forbidden ; 
 
 The and he asks why ? What is it that makes this action 
 
 difference right and that wrong, when there is not much to choose 
 
 between between them, and when towards both he has the same 
 
 right and natural desire, which after all seems so much more like 
 
 wrong a ijj vme command than the capricious utterances of 
 
 the Mollahs. Still sin exists; he can but rebel; he 
 
 can conquer nothing, not even peace of mind. He 
 
 says : — 
 
 ' Abstain then from impossible commands. 
 How can the soul triumph o'er the body ? 
 Wine is my sin, but so is abstinence forbidden. 
 To sum up all, he says, " Hold the cup awry, and 
 spill it not." 
 
 ' What are we that he should speak evil of us 
 And make a hundred of each one of our faults ? 
 We are but his mirrors, and what he sees in us 
 And calls good or evil that sees he in himself.' " 
 
 Mrs. Cadell then quotes FitzGerald's stanzas 78, 79, 
 80, and 81, and goes on : —
 
 Introduction. xcvii 
 
 " Rebellious as Khayam certainly was, we do not 
 think he went as far as this. Mr. FitzGerald's stanzas 
 7S, 79, are a free rendering of various things scattered 
 through the Persian, which hardly have quite the same 
 meaning in their own places, those we have recently 
 quoted being the nearest we know to them. Khayam 
 has at least the grace to be miserable, not jaunty, when 
 he says, ' We are helpless : thou has made us what we 
 are — we sin — and suffer profoundly, but do not see 
 any way out of it.' For the 80th we find the following : 
 
 ' In my path in many places thou layest snares, Rubâ'iy 
 
 Saying, I will take thee if thou put foot in one. LXXX. 
 
 No least atom of the world is empty of thy law ; 
 I do but obey that law, and thou callest me a sinner.' 
 
 " We think the 81st is a misconception of the meaning 
 of a Persian line. . . . We remember several quatrains 
 on repentance. 
 
 " One is as follows : — 
 
 ' As this world is false, I '11 be nothing else, 
 And only remember pleasure and bright wine; 
 To me they say, May God give thee repentance ! 
 He does it not ; but did He, I would not obey.' 
 
 " Here we have the Mohammedan notion of repent- The Mu- 
 ance as the gift of God, and such repentance is strong hamrnadan 
 on the practical side of the renunciation of evil, notion of 
 Khayam speaks of repentance as something outside repentance 
 him, but often adds that he would rebel against it if it 
 were given him. Another on the same subject : — 
 
 ' May there be wine in my hand for ever, 
 And ever love of beauty in my head. 
 To me they say, May God give thee repentance ! 
 Say He gives it, I '11 not do it, far be it from me.' 
 
 7
 
 xcviii Introduction. 
 
 The line " The following is, we think, where Mr. FitzGerald 
 
 about for- has got his line about forgiveness. We have no no- 
 giveness t j on w here the snake, Paradise, and blackened face 
 
 may come from ; they are not unlikely allusions, but we 
 
 do not know them : — 
 
 ' Oh, Thou, knower of the secret thoughts of every 
 
 man, 
 O God, give me repentance and accept the excuse I 
 
 bring, 
 O giver of repentance and receiver of the excuses of 
 
 every man.' 
 
 "This last line Mr. Fitzgerald seems to have 
 read : — 
 
 ' O repent ye and excuse thyself to every man ' — 
 
 a sense which we believe the Persian will not naturally 
 convey; but we again remark that Mr. Fitzgerald may 
 have had another quatrain or another reading of this. 
 Khayam was bold enough at times, but we do not 
 think he reached the point of offering forgiveness to 
 God for man's sins. What we have just quoted is 
 not bold at all, being evidently a prayer for a better 
 mind. Its authenticity is doubtful, however. The fol- 
 lowing is a more trustworthy expression of Khayam's 
 mood : — 
 
 ' Ever at war with passion am I. What can I do ? 
 Ever in pain for my actions I am. What can I do ? 
 True thou may'st pardon all the sin, but for the 
 shame 
 That thou hast seen what I have done, what can I 
 do?'
 
 Introduction. xcix 
 
 "Another: — 
 
 ' Though I 've ne'er threaded thy obedience's pearl, The 
 
 And though through sin I have not sought thy face, Bodleian 
 
 Still of thy mercy hopeless am I not, quatrain 
 For I have never called the great One two.' 
 
 " Here he hopes for mercy, spite of sin, because he 
 has never attacked the unity of God. 
 
 "... In many respects Khayam contradicts precon- 
 ceived notions of Oriental character. Though fond 
 of pleasure, he was not attracted by a sensual Paradise. 
 He was not indifferent to death — he was not passive 
 under the hand of Fate, or at all remarkable for resig- 
 nation. He is a discovery, a light on the old Eastern 
 world in its reality, which proves, as do most realities, 
 different from what suppositions and theories would 
 make them." 
 
 VI. 
 
 'UMAR OF NÎSHÂPTJR. 
 
 In the "National Review" for December, 1890, 
 (vol. xvi, pp. 506-521), Mr. Charles J. Pickering 
 also makes an attempt to exhibit the real Omar: 
 
 " Of the comparatively few Oriental writers who have The mouth- 
 become well known in Europe, Al-Khayyâm has per- piece of 
 haps been the least fortunate. Ignored by D'Herbelot, modern 
 misrepresented and maligned by Von Hammer, and pessimism 
 made the mouthpiece of a purely modern pessimism 
 by his most successful translator, the shade of the old 
 Hakim, were it not long ago well lulled to sleep be-
 
 Introduction. 
 
 neath the ancestral roses, might justly have risen in 
 reproach of a misbelieving and unsympathetic genera- 
 tion which deems itself wiser than the children of the 
 Dawn. 
 A faultless "The brilliant paraphrase of Edward FitzGerakl 
 
 English has made the name of 'Umar somewhat of a house- 
 
 poem hold word. As an English poem it is so nearly 
 
 faultless that, for those to whom its haunting music 
 has been a companion of years, to balance calmly its 
 merits and defects would be no easy task. But when 
 we compare it with the original, we are surprised to 
 find how much of the English version is original too. 
 . . . Among a considerable section of his Oriental 
 readers, as in the parallel case of Ilâfiz, and, since Von 
 Hammer's time, in Europe generally, 'Umar has had 
 to bear the character of a poetic black sheep. Follow- 
 ing in the track of the author of the Geschickte der 
 schoiien Redekünste Persiens, the translator, while invest- 
 ing his subject with a beauty of rhythm and phrase 
 that reminds us rather of the Laureate than of any 
 English songster, throws the sceptical side of 'Umar's 
 genius into still darker shadow, so that the vacillating 
 doubt and despondency of the Persian grow in his 
 A paean of hands a prean of passionate denial and defiance. It 
 protest would, however, be unfair to contend that for this 
 
 there is positively no warrant in the original. Lawless 
 and uncertain thoughts occur, but they seem rather to 
 be thrown out at random, stray sparks from the 
 furnace of a fiery spirit, ill at ease with itself, than 
 parts of a deliberate system of Ileinesque mockery or 
 of Byronic scorn. Phrases scattered here and there 
 throughout the Rubâ'iyât are given an emphasis and 
 used in a sequence their author would have been the 
 first to disown. . . . That his powerful and original 
 intellect sometimes led him to the threshold of a
 
 Introduction. ci 
 
 broader truth, faith in which had risen on the basis 
 of an 'honest doubt,' which feebler minds so little 
 understood, seems no less certain. Few of his suc- 
 cessors ever rose so high. The lighter or looser A new con- 
 rhymes amid which these passages occur, 'like sparks ception of 
 among the stubble,' and whose proximity is due to Omar 
 that odd Eastern fashion which ranges poems accord- Khayyam 
 ing to the alphabetic sequence of their terminal letters, 
 only serve to heighten by contrast the effect of these 
 loftier utterances, which, if gathered together, would 
 yield quite a new conception of 'U mar's character and 
 genius. 
 
 "... It is remarkable that nearly all that is best in 
 the history and literature of Persia has come from 
 Khurâsân. That highland region, whose mountains 
 often rise to an elevation of twelve or thirteen thousand 
 feet, seems to have been peculiarly fitted to foster a 
 strain of hardy intellectual growth, which, grafted on 
 the product of the rich soil of historic Iran, was to blos- 
 som in strange and beautiful fertility. The Banû Bar- 
 mak, that premier clan of the old Guebre aristocracy 
 of Persia, extirpated at one fell swoop by the relentless 
 suspicion of the most fortunate of the Khalîfs, origi- 
 nated in Khurâsân. The Ahlu 's-Sâmân, the nursing The home 
 fathers of Persian letters, traced their ancestry to a like of Persian 
 source; and it was at the brilliant court of Abu Nasr, poetry 
 lord of Khurasan and Transoxiana, that the genius of 
 Master Rûdagî, the proto-poet of modern Iran, was 
 cultivated to an almost phenomenal activity by showers 
 of unstinted gold; and here it was that Persia's loftiest 
 and most human singer, the immortal Firdausî, was 
 born. 'Umar, therefore, from his cradle could not but 
 have been breathing a poetic air ; and his love for his 
 native land is testified by the Heimweh, which led him, 
 in the full sunshine of imperial favour, and at the apex
 
 Cil 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 of his scientific fame, to seek retirement for the rest of 
 his days at Nîshâpûr." 
 
 After concisely giving a sketch of his life, the 
 author goes on : — 
 
 " The snatches of song which have immortalized his 
 name seem to have been his relaxation from the strain 
 Omar, of professional toil. In this he offers a striking re- 
 
 Dante, and semblance to two of the greatest poets of Europe, 
 Goethe Dante and Goethe, to whom the pursuit of knowledge 
 
 was the business of life, and to sing of it their recrea- 
 tion. A passionate devotion to natural science is char- 
 acteristic of all three, and in each we see a yearning 
 love of human sympathy, and a power of pure and lofty 
 friendship which reminds us of ' the antique world.' 
 
 " But from all accounts it seems, as indeed one might 
 gather from his verses, that 'Umar's devotion even to 
 science was not that of an anchorite. ' Persian chroni- 
 clers tell us,' says M. Nicolas, 'that Khayyam was 
 much given to converse and quaff wine with his 
 friends in moonlit evenings on the terrace of his house, 
 he seated upon a carpet with a Sâqî, who, cup in hand, 
 offered the wine to all the joyous company in turn,' — 
 an usage which, with the substitution of the crystal 
 decanter for the terra-cotta cruse and the wine-glass 
 for the cup of copper, still holds in Persia at the 
 present day . . . 
 Poetical " It has been suggested by Von Hammer that 'Umar's 
 
 rivalries flings at philosophy were stimulated by envy at the 
 
 fame and fortune of Amîr Mûizî, who had risen from 
 the position of a sipâhî ('sepoy'), or common soldier, 
 to be the Dichter-könig, or laureate of Malik Shah, and 
 ' ever in his favour,' as the historian informs us. This 
 singer was a Sûfî mystic of undoubted sincerity, and.
 
 Introduction. ciii 
 
 so far as can be seen from the specimens given by 
 Von Hammer, held opinions not widely differing from 
 those of 'Umar himself. One very characteristic ghazal 
 chants a lofty pantheism, in terms well-nigh identical 
 with 'Umar's own. It might be, indeed, that at mo- 
 ments when the doubting questioning spirit had set in, 
 the Khurâsânî took expressions of his famous con- 
 temporary in vain; and, of course, it is not impossible 
 that some personal rivalry between the two poets may 
 have existed, although such a feeling was alien to the 
 self-contained and independent character of the author 
 of the Kubifiyat. 
 
 " After all, Khayyam's mockery is more at the ex- Omar's 
 pense of self than of others, and his satire is evidently mockery 
 reserved for the pretenders to divine knowledge; e.g., 
 in the last quatrain [No. 464 in the edition of Nicolas, 
 whose edition is constantly used in this article] he 
 says : — 
 
 ' They who an ocean are of virtues and of wit, 
 By whose consummate glory are all their fellows lit, 
 
 Out of this obscure slumber find us not a way, 
 Tell us an old-wives' tale and fall asleep in it.' 
 
 " Elsewhere he brings out more clearly the cause of 
 his dissatisfaction: — 
 
 ' Those who the whole world's quintessential spirit ap- 
 pear, 
 Who wing their contemplation past the crowning 
 sphere, 
 For all they know of Thee, are like the heavens 
 themselves : 
 Dizzied and in amaze, they bow the head in fear.' (120)
 
 Man the 
 quintes- 
 sence of 
 the world 
 
 civ Introduction. 
 
 " He shadows forth the remedy in another passage, 
 where also man, as the microcosm, is termed the 
 quintessence (khalâsaA) of the world, and which may 
 help us as a clue to the meaning of many of his ambigu- 
 ous utterances about wine: — 
 
 ' O thou, who art the Kosmos' quintessential strain, 
 For a brief breath let be the worry of loss and gain ; 
 
 Take but one cup from the eternal Sâqî, take, 
 And go forever free from the two worlds' grief and 
 pain.' (319) 
 
 Mystic "The thought that one draught of the mystic wine, 
 
 wine the love-passion of the Eternal, induces oblivion alike 
 
 of natural and supernatural hope and fear, is elsewhere 
 expressed under a different symbolism : — 
 
 ' In convent and in college, synagogue and church, 
 Of Hell they live in fear, for Paradise they search ; 
 
 But whoso once hath known the mysteries of God 
 Will never let such weeds his soul's fair field be- 
 smirch.' (46) 
 
 "And in another quatrain the quietist doctrine is 
 enunciated with a still greater boldness : — 
 
 ' Each heart wherein He kneads the leavening light of 
 love, 
 Whether a haunter of mosque or synagogue he prove, 
 
 In the great book of love if he his name hath writ 
 Is free from Hell and free from Paradise above.' (60) 
 
 " This conclusion reminds us of the beautiful legend 
 of Abu bin Adham, so gracefully and tenderly versified 
 by Leigh Hunt, — 
 
 ' Write me as one that loves his fellow men/
 
 Introduction. cv 
 
 but that 'Umar's love is rather the divine affection 
 which rounds all human brotherhood and charity in its 
 perfect orb. 
 
 "The formalism of current Orthodoxy seems to have His hatred 
 exercised the mind of 'Umar in no little degree, and of hypocrisy 
 accounts for much of his apparent irreverence, lie 
 frequently takes up his parable against the Pharisees 
 and hypocrites of his day, and their practice of making 
 long prayers arouses his especial dislike. To him the 
 humble hope that trusts and is not afraid is a truer 
 adoration than that which clothes itself into the garb 
 of liturgical forms: — 
 
 ' They are gone, the travellers, and ne'er a one returns 
 To tell of aught beyond the mystic Veil that burns ; 
 
 Thy work were better done by espérance than prayer, 
 For without Truth and Hope no prayer a profit 
 earns.' (227) 
 
 " The above reads like the recantation of an utterance 
 closing with the same rime-cadence of which it is the 
 perfect antithesis : — 
 
 ' Of all the travellers who tread the long, long way, 
 Has one returned for me to ask him news, I pray ? 
 
 Take care lest thou within this little inn of life 
 Leave aught on the score of hope ; thou 'It not re-view 
 the day.' (217) 
 
 " In reading the Rubâ'iyât we seem to be spectators The 
 of a ' life-drama,' a master-spirit's progress and de- Rubâiyât a 
 velopment through the clash and conflict of the eternal life drama 
 Yea and Nay ; not less so, though less fully expressed, 
 than that of Carlyle in Sartor, Shakspeare in the Son- 
 nets, or Tennyson in In Memoriam. When we begin
 
 CV1 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 to trace our way through the sad jumble of thought 
 produced by the alphabetical arrangement of the qua- 
 trains, no two of which were probably more consecutive 
 than a pair of Greek epigrams, we cannot but be con- 
 Three scious of three dominant moods of mind, if not periods 
 moods of of mental development, — epicurean, sceptical, mystic, 
 mind Infinite and well-nigh imperceptible are the gradations 
 whereby the exhortation to mere physical enjoyment, 
 the joyous and thoughtless spirit of youth, pass over 
 into the bitter or sorrowful questioning of a soul with- 
 out God or hope in the world; and these, again, 
 through the self-abasement of conscious sin, into the 
 calm and deliberate utterance of trust, or the half-enig- 
 matical rapture of one who sees beyond the veil. 
 
 " And as every great spirit exists no less as the child 
 of his own age than ' for all time,' so we may consider 
 How in- 'Ulnar's earlier compositions to have been influenced 
 
 fluenced if not inspired by the prevailing fashion of the time, 
 
 and inspired with its princely symposiums and feasts of reason, and 
 not a little by the graceful wine-songs of Avicenna 
 (d. 1037), in whom also science blossomed into poetry: 
 as in his after days, grown wiser by the discipline of 
 intellectual defeat, he became more and more in har- 
 mony with that profounder cast of thought and feeling 
 which found, a few years later, so grand an exponent 
 in Jalâlu'd-dîn of Iconium, and an interpreter to the 
 world in Sa'adî of Shirâz. It is the remark of Von 
 Hammer that a sceptical era is followed no less in 
 nations than in individuals by a period of mystic de- 
 votion, and the religious revival which is its external 
 token and garb. 
 
 " We need not, therefore, be discouraged by the 
 strange ambiguity of many of 'Ulnar's utterances, 
 where it seems equally difficult to accept the literal or 
 parabolic sense. . . .
 
 Introduction. cvii 
 
 " 'Ulnar's wine-epigram is sometimes so dark a say- Pleasure in 
 Ing, that for lack of an interpreter we are fain tu leave it mystifying 
 in its own melodious obscurity, not without a shrewd 
 suspicion that he, like other powerful minds, is occa- 
 sionally apt to take pleasure in mystifying his hearers, 
 and to send forth his poetic shafts, (fjcovavra œvvÎtoktiv, 
 without very much care as to where and who the 'un- 
 derstanding' may be. His friends would hold the key, 
 and that was enough for him. 
 
 "There is a strange and terribly audacious play of 
 fancy about the following, which may or may not be 
 figurative : — 
 
 ' When I am dead, my friends, wash me with vintage 
 rare, 
 Wine and the goblet o'er me invoke in lieu of prayer ; 
 
 On Resurrection Day, if ye would seek my lair, 
 Look for me 'neath the dust our wine-house portals 
 bear.' (7) 
 
 " Elsewhere he recurs to the same thought : — 
 
 ' my beloved companions, hearten me with wine, 
 And make ye ruby red this umbered face of mine; 
 Wash ye with wine my corpse when I am cold and 
 dead 
 And make my coffin wood of timber of the vine.' (109) 
 
 "By comparison with the following we get a little 
 light : - 
 
 'TheKurân, which men use to call "the Word sub- "Mahin 
 
 lime," Kalâm," or 
 Not constantly they read, only from time to tim< ; Word sub- 
 but on the Beaker's brim is written a verse of light lime 
 Which men forevermore may read in every clime.' (11)
 
 cviii Introduction. 
 
 The esoteric " According to the exoteric (zâhirî) sense, this of 
 interpréta- course means merely that potation is better than devo- 
 tion tion ; but, as the Teheran Sûfî pointed out to Nicolas, 
 
 there is another and an esoteric [bâtinî) which inter- 
 prets the wine-cup as the world of phenomena, brim- 
 ming with the love of God, and the inscription on the 
 lip the apocalypse of Himself in creation, which, unlike 
 the scrolls of mortal prophets, is ever open to those 
 unto whose eyes it is given to see. In another place 
 (196) he gives to the thought, if we may interpret it in 
 the above sense, a still more mystical expression : — 
 
 ' Drink thou of this : it is the wine of life eterne ; 
 Drink ! 'tis the reservoir whence joys of youth ye earn ; 
 
 'Tis burning like the fire, yet lighteneth our face 
 Even like the Water of Life ; drink deeply from the 
 urn.' 
 
 2 Esdras, " To this passage there is rather a remarkable parallel 
 
 xiv. 39, 40 in the Jewish-Christian apocryphal Book of Esdras. 
 The prophet, watching under the oak-tree for his revela- 
 tion, has a vision of the Lord : ' Behold, he reached me 
 a full cup, which was full as it were with water, but 
 the colour of it was like fire : and I took it and drank ; 
 and when I had drunk of it, my heart uttered under- 
 standing, and wisdom grew in my breast.' 
 
 " But whatever we may think of the foregoing, there 
 is surely little that is enigmatical about the follow- 
 ing : — 
 
 ' On the world's coquetry, fools, lavish not your coin, 
 When all her ways and windings know ye, line by 
 line ; 
 Give not unto the wind this precious life, your own, 
 But hasten, seek the Friend, and quickly quaff the 
 Wine.' (108)
 
 Introduction. 
 
 cix 
 
 "The prevailing thought, however, of those which The doc 
 we would consider as the earlier quatrains is the brevity trine of 
 of life, and the Horatian maxim Carpe diem. It is on "Carpe 
 these, as indeed we might expect in a youthful poet, diem" 
 that 'Umar has chiefly expended the wealth of his fancy.' 
 A few may be adduced as fair samples of the rest : — 
 
 * Wake 1 for the morning breaks, and rends the robe of 
 night ; 
 Why sorrowful ? Rise and quaff the draught of dawn 
 aright ; 
 Drain thou the wine, sweetheart, for many a morn 
 shall break, 
 And turn her eyes to ours, and ours be lorn of light. 
 
 (255) 
 
 ' The yesterday that 's gone endeavour to forget, 
 And mourn not for to-morrow : 'tis not risen yet ; 
 Root not thy hope in aught of things that come and 
 g°. 
 Be happy now, and fling not life to the winds to fret. 
 
 (334) 
 
 ' A wise man unto me came in my sleep, and said : 
 " From whose sleep ever bloomed the rose of gladness 
 red? 
 Why wilt thou do a thing that's so the twin of 
 death ? 
 Drink, for full soon thou 'It sleep with dust above thy 
 head." (48) 
 
 ' See how the wind of dawn has rent the Rose's robe, 
 How Bulbul by her beauty is filled with joy and love ! 
 Sit in the Rose's shade, for many a bloom like this 
 Has out o' the dust arisen and lain with dust above. 
 
 (3/0)
 
 ex Introduction. 
 
 ' Since no one can become a surety for the morrow, 
 Rejoice thee now, and clear thy heart of carking 
 sorrow ; 
 Drink wine i' the light of wine, for the moon, my 
 Moon, shall look 
 For us no more, how oft the heaven she circle thorow. 
 
 (8) 
 
 ' 'Tis a sweet day ; the breeze is neither hot nor cold ; 
 Soft clouds have laved the dust from every rose's 
 fold; 
 And to the yellow rose hi speech like ours implores 
 The nightingale, " One draught, and lose thy hue of 
 gold." (153) 
 
 ' Be of good cheei", for chagrin will be infinite ; 
 Upon the sphere of heaven stars shall conjoin and 
 smite ; 
 The potter's clay that from thy body kned shall be 
 Will build the palace walls where others see the light. 
 
 ' Khayyam, Time's very self 's ashamed of anyone 
 Who in the day of sorrow sits faint-hearted down ; 
 
 Wine do thou quaff in crystal to the lute's lament 
 Or e'er thy crystal bowl be shattered on the stone. 
 
 (252) 
 
 ' Lay in my palm thy wine : my heart 's on fire to-day : 
 And fleet-foot as quicksilver, this life will not stay ; 
 
 Wake ! for the smile of Fortune is but as a dream, 
 Wake ! for the fire of Youth like water flows away. 
 
 (54)
 
 Introduction. cxi 
 
 1 What time her robing purple on her the violet throws, 
 And morning breezes ruffle petal-folds of rose, 
 
 Wiser were he who by his silver-breasted love 
 Quaffs of the wine and shatters goblet ere he goes.' 
 
 (189) 
 
 " Occasionally, as in his Roman prototype, we catch A tone of 
 amidst this forced gaiety a tone of deeper pathos : — pathos 
 
 * 'Twere best we o'er the wine-cup gave our hearts to 
 glee, 
 And take light thought of aught that 's gone or come 
 to be; 
 And this our soul that 's lent us, prisoner as it is, 
 One moment from the bonds of Intellect set free. 
 
 (265) 
 
 ' Ah, that the scroll of Youth so soon should be uprolled, 
 And Pleasure's springtide freshness wrinkle so and 
 fold! 
 That bird of joy whereon is set the name of Youth 
 Knows neither how it came nor whither its course must 
 hold. (128) 
 
 ' When never a labour of ours has issue to our heart, 
 Wherefore should we take thought, whereto our 
 impulse start ? 
 So sit we down in sorrow and sigh in our regret, 
 " Too late, too late, we came, too soon must we 
 depart." (41) 
 
 ' In this wild whirl of time that breeds the base alone, 
 Uncounted griefs and pangs bear I till life be done ; 
 
 My heart a rosebud shut i' the rosière of the world, 
 A blood-red tulip flower in time's plantation grown.' 
 
 (201)
 
 CX11 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 Sings only " His longing for the sympathy of a kindred spirit — 
 
 for friends a tnahram i râz, a confidant of soul-secrets— which is 
 characteristic of all true poets, the nee recito cuiquam 
 nisi amicis of Horace in a deeper sense, finds expres- 
 sion again in the following : — 
 
 1 Falcon-like in the world of Mystery have I flown, 
 In hope to leave this low and reach a loftier zone ; 
 
 But for I find not here a soul for confidence, 
 I from that door whereby I came again am gone.' (225) 
 
 " In spite of its distinctly Sûfî flavour, this quatrain 
 can surely be read in a merely human sense. He has 
 felt for but not yet found the eternal Friend, and in 
 his loneliness he yearns for a brother man with whom 
 to share his perplexities. 
 The bitter- " As with Shakespeare in his middle period — that of 
 ness of life Timon and of Troilus — there comes a time in 'Umar's 
 history when the beauty of life was as apples of Sodom, 
 the bitterness of self-reproach a very Marah to his soul ; 
 a time when he could not sing as in the thoughtless 
 days, 
 
 ' Plant not within thy soul the Shoot of Sorrow's tree, 
 The manuscript of joy read unremittingly,' 
 
 for the newly-awakened conscience will not be lulled, 
 and gives him no rest. ' When the thought of my 
 faults presents itself before me,' he says, ' my face 
 flows down with tears that are born of my heart of 
 fire.' 
 
 ' At this wild whirl of Heaven I sorrow evermore, 
 And with my own base nature ever am at war; 
 
 Science avails me not to rise above the world, 
 Nor Reason lets me rest where no earth-noises roar.' 
 
 (273)
 
 Introdîtction. cxiii 
 
 "To the reproaches of those who do not understand No moral 
 him, and accuse him of moral cowardice, he replies, — cowardice 
 and the humility of his answer is reflected in his style : — 
 
 ' Deem not it is the world whereat I am dismayed, 
 Or death and soul's departure frighten with their 
 shade : 
 For that it is a fact, of death have I no fear ; 
 'T is that I live not well, whereof I am afraid.' (276) 
 
 " In the turmoil of self-accusation and self-excuse, 
 he seeks for comfort in the doctrine of determinism 
 which he had imbibed from childhood, and gives it a 
 characteristic turn: — 
 
 ' That day the Steed of Heaven was saddled for the race, 
 Parwîn and Mushtarî sprang forth in all their grace, 
 
 In the Dîvân of Fate was my lot cast also : 
 How then should sin be mine, with Destiny in the 
 chase?' (no) 
 
 " In his perplexity, he is almost ready to reproach 
 the First Cause: — 
 
 ' Thou before Whom the maze of sin is clear to see, 
 To him hath ears to hear declare this mystery : 
 
 Foreknowledge absolute of Sin's cause to conceive 
 In a wise man's eyes the extreme of ignorance would 
 be.' (116) 
 
 The 
 
 " It seems to him that if the nature of sin, its causal 
 power, had been present to the Infinite Consciousness, philosophy 
 it would never in the scheme of creation have been of the 
 suffered to be — an anticipation, we might almost say, Uncon- 
 of that 'philosophy of the Unconscious' which has scious " 
 proceeded from the school of Schopenhauer. 
 8
 
 cxiv Introduction. 
 
 " Wearied with beating his wings against the bars 
 of this insoluble problem, he falls back upon a pathetic 
 remonstrance and lament : — 
 
 ' Of clay and water hast thou kneaded me : what can I ? 
 Hast woven me of silk and wool to be : what can I ? 
 
 And every deed I give to life, be it good or ill, 
 Was written on my soul by Thy decree : what can I ? ' 
 
 (268) 
 
 " Al-Khayyâm's final appeal for remission, if we may 
 so regard it, is not without an added interest for us as 
 having been the subject of one of the most daring in- 
 versions in literature. The following is a bald repro- 
 duction of 'Umar's words as they stand in the Teheran 
 text : — 
 
 Rubâ'iy ' O Knower of the secrets of the heart of every man, 
 
 LXXXI. Who in the hour of weakness bear'st the part of every 
 
 man, 
 Accept, O Lord, my penitence, and me forgiveness 
 give, 
 Thou who Forgiver and Excuser art of every man.' 
 
 (236) 
 
 "This quatrain, as Mrs. Cadell was the first to point 
 out, is the sole known warrant for that startling pas- 
 sage in Mr. Fitzgerald's poem, which has so largely 
 affected our conception of 'Umar: — 
 
 ' Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make 
 And e'en with Paradise devise the Snake : 
 
 For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man 
 Is blacken'd — Man's forgiveness give — and take ! '
 
 Introduction. cxv 
 
 "' Khayyam was bold enough at times,' remarks the 
 critic, 'but we do not think he reached the point of 
 offering God forgiveness for man's sins.' 
 
 "The allusions in the second and third lines do 
 not seem to be traceable in any extant text of the 
 Rubâ'iyât. 
 
 " Let us now examine a few rubfciyât of the strictly Mystical 
 mystical class, that which we would consider character- quatrains 
 istic of his later and graver years. But between these 
 and the rest there is no hard and fast line to be drawn ; 
 there is no sudden conversion, but a gradually growing 
 conviction of eternal realities, not objectively merely, 
 but as existent in the Self, the individual consciousness. 
 This reunion of finite with infinite, the Maksad-i-Aqsâ, 
 or 'Uttermost Aim' of Sufic devotion, is beautifully 
 figured by Jalâl in one of his g/iazals, as translated most 
 worthily by Mr. Gibbs : — 
 
 ' If to travel thou canst not avail, then journey to thine A ghazal 
 own heart, of Jalâl 
 
 And e'en as the ruby mine, be fired by the ray serene. 
 
 'O master, journey thou forth, away from thyself to 
 Thyself; 
 For the ore of the mine turns gold by a journey like 
 this, I ween. 
 
 ' From sourness and bitterness here, to the region of 
 sweetness fare ; 
 For that every moon from the light of the sun is with 
 grace beseem' 
 
 " In his own quaint manner Al-Khayyâm gives the 
 thought expression : —
 
 CXV1 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 ' While on the path of Hope let no heart pass unknown, 
 
 While on the path of Presence * make a Friend your 
 
 own ; 
 
 A hundred clay and water Ka'abas are not worth 
 
 One Heart : whereafter seek, and Ka'abas leave alone.' 
 
 (15) 
 
 Omar's "As he rises in the scale of insight, his sympathies 
 
 broad widen, and he can perceive that to the true believer 
 
 liberality no faith is alien, and that variations and discrepancies 
 of worship, be it sincere, are less of kind than of de- 
 gree ; the fairest feature of the mystic school in every 
 age. Hinduism, which he typifies by the name of 
 pagoda {butkada, or idol house), and which was in his 
 time the object of unceasing crusades on the part of 
 Islam, is more than once brought by him into honorable 
 prominence, and is made, equally with Zoroastrianism 
 and with Christianity, the vehicle of his wider hope : — 
 
 ' Pagoda, Ka'aba, both are temples of true service, 
 The bell-peal is the hymning music of true service ; 
 
 The Mihrab and the Church, the Rosary and Cross, 
 In truth are one and all but tokens of true service.' 
 
 (3°) 
 
 " Elsewhere, by a play upon words not unknown to 
 the Hebrew Scriptures, he opposes to the everlasting 
 light {nur) of Islam the eternal fire [nâr) of Mazdeism, 
 — not, surely, as Nicolas would have us suppose, ' the 
 
 * Niyâz (Hope or Aspiration) and Hazûr (Presence, the 
 Beatific Vision) are, respectively, the second and penultimate 
 stages of the Tar'iq or way of Perfection, of which the fourth 
 and last is Haqîqat (Truth-God) — absolute absorption into the 
 Divine Essence, or Nirvana.
 
 Introduction. cxvii 
 
 fire of Hell,' unless, indeed, there be a lurking double 
 entendre, mischievously contrived for those profane 
 ones who could or would not distinguish the one from 
 the other, — a view quite in keeping of what we knew 
 of 'Umar's character: — 
 
 'Though our lot be not the roses, yet we have the thorn. 
 
 And there 's a Fire, although for us no Light be born ; 
 
 And there 's the belfry-chime and Church and Brama- 
 
 thread, 
 
 Although no Khankah* shelter or Darvîsh dress be 
 
 worn.' (253) 
 
 " This feeling is expressed as boldly in the ruââ'iy, 
 where he says that the worshipper, whether he be Jew 
 or Muslim, if only his name is written in God's great 
 book of Love (ô yàp Qebs àydin] ftrri), is freed alike from Spiritual 
 the gross pains and the grosser pleasures of the popular liberty 
 hell and paradise ; a sentiment strangely in opposition 
 to the recorded injunction of Muhammad, ' Spare not 
 the Synagogue of Satan.' That spiritual Liberty, whose 
 correlative in the moral sphere is the avrapxeia [Self- 
 sufficiency, independence] of Epictetus and Antonine, 
 is the object of his earnest longing. If haply he may 
 find it ? 
 
 1 The heart that Isolation's fulness doth not own 
 Is helpless, daily mate of her own penitent moan : 
 
 How shall true joy be hers, except the soul is free? 
 All else whate'er it be, is root of grief alone.' (97) 
 
 "Like Sir Henry Wotton, he can picture to himself 
 the blissful state of the man who is ' lord of himself 
 though not of lands, and having nothing, yet hath all.' 
 
 * Khankah. a Muhammadan monastery.
 
 cxviii Introduction. 
 
 His out- Indeed, his conception has as much a Christian as a 
 
 bursts of Stoic flavour, and recalls the Sermon on the Mount as 
 devotion wel] as the Meditations. 
 
 ' Happy the heart of him who passes life unknown, 
 Who never wore cashmere or lawn or lamb's-wool 
 gown : 
 Who like the Simurgh wings his flight in highest 
 heaven, 
 Who makes not like the owl 'mid ruined worlds his 
 moan. (140) 
 
 ' In this world whoso hath but half a loaf of bread, 
 And in his breast a refuge where to lay his head, 
 
 Who of no man is slave, who of no man is lord — 
 Tell such to live in joy : his world is sweet indeed.' 
 
 (146) 
 
 " All these currents of thought meet and mingle in 
 one harmonious outburst of devotion, which is vigor- 
 ously expressed in 'Umar's truest style. 
 
 ' In Faith are two and seventy Worships, great and 
 small, 
 But the worship of Thy Love will I choose before them 
 all; 
 What's Unbelief, Belief, Obedience, or Sin? 
 Before thee, the one Aim, let all pretences fall.' (24S) 
 
 Evil only " Here, in common with the mystics of every school, 
 
 relative he seeks to solve the riddle of evil by questioning its 
 
 existence in fact, or by assuming it to be merely rela- 
 tive, which, rightly seen, is swallowed up in the fullness 
 of the infinite Light. As to this conclusion he must
 
 Introduction. cxix 
 
 have been helped not a little by the deterministic theol- 
 ogy which he had learned from the Imam Muwaffiq, 
 and to which he gives, as to every phase of his thought, 
 a characteristic expression : — 
 
 ' Limned on Creation's Tablet each and all exists, 
 Yet evermore from Good or 111 the Pencil rests. 
 
 All that is destined must in Justice come to be, 
 And vain the wish that yearns, the sorrow that resists.' 
 
 (30 
 
 " From the belief that good and evil, in our sense of A dan- 
 the words, are banished from the Councils of Eternity, gerous 
 to a denial to moral distinctions of anything but a doctrine 
 relative existence, was but a step. This most danger- 
 ous doctrine, so capable of the corruptio optimi pessima, 
 is touched upon by J ami, the last of the great Sûfî 
 poets, in the proem to his exquisite allegory, Salâmân 
 and Absâl, as a prayer that the beatific vision may 
 annihilate his self-identity and» release him from the 
 distinction between good and evil, may make him, as 
 Mr. Fitzgerald well expresses it in his fine paraphrase : 
 
 ' Self-lost, and conscience-quit of Good and Evil.' 
 
 " Sometimes 'Umar's rapture of contemplation car- 
 ries him very high, and in his tone, though not his style, 
 reminds us now of Shelley and now of Emerson. Take, 
 for example, the following : — 
 
 ' Thou, Whom the whole world seeks in frenzy and fire 
 of mind, 
 Barren alike before Thee are rich and poor mankind ; 
 Thou 'rt mingled in all speech, and every ear is deaf, 
 Thou 'rt present to all men, and every eye is blind. 
 
 (204)
 
 cxx Introduction. 
 
 ' Sometime to mortal man Thou show'st Thy hidden 
 Face, 
 Sometime art manifest in Kosmic form and trace ; 
 And this magnificence show'st Thou to Thine own 
 Self, 
 For thou 'rt the Eyes that see, the Vision they embrace. 
 
 (443) 
 
 The Drop to the Sea's lamenting, " Separate are we." 
 "Rather 'tis Thou and I are all things," laughs the 
 Sea; 
 " Truly there is none other : we are God alone, 
 'T is but a tittle's varying sunders thee and Me." ' (365) 
 
 His humor "We should be doing injustice to 'Umar's genius 
 
 were we to omit from our view that aspect of it which 
 is so characteristic of the man, and singles him out 
 from all his fellows; that grotesque humour, so rare in 
 Eastern literature, which is the point he possesses in 
 common with Heine, and which we may almost say is 
 the antiseptic salt that has preserved his thought fresh 
 for us after the lapse of centuries. This spirit of self- 
 banter, which plays lightly around so many of his utter- 
 ances, is not quite absent from even such a topic as the 
 assurance of his own immortality, to which it gives 
 the quaintest of turns. Yet here he is evidently in 
 earnest : — 
 
 ' The moment when I shall from death escape and flee, 
 And shed like leaf from bough my body from life's 
 tree, 
 With what glad heart / 7/ make the universe a sieve 
 Or e'er an earthly riddle sift the dust of me ! ' (266)
 
 Introduction. cxxi 
 
 "The same spirit is noticeable in one of his potatory Enigmatical 
 quatrains of which it were difficult to say whether he is expressions 
 merely jesting or is propounding a Sûric sentiment under 
 a bizarre form. Like some passages already quoted, it 
 is of so enigmatical a character as to fairly baffle our 
 scrutiny : — 
 
 'When azure Dawn begins to lift her light divine, 
 Look in thine hand there be the wine-bowl flashing fine : 
 
 They say that Truth is ever bitter in the mouth 
 And by that argument the Truth must needs be Wine.' 
 
 (185) 
 
 " In the same category we might include a quatrain 
 in which Khayyam, after his own peculiar fashion, 
 reproaches Fortune's wheel : — 
 
 ' Ah, Wheel of Heaven ! no guest but fears thy perfidy.* 
 Naked thou keep'st me stript as fish that's in the sea; 
 While all creation 's clad by spinning-wheels of earth, 
 There 's ne'er a spinning-wheel but far surpasseth 
 thee!' (251) 
 
 "We have seen how 'Umar speaks of Christianity: Omar and 
 let us see how a Muhammadan may speak of its Founder. Muhammad 
 Even though it be not genuine, the rubâ'iy was assuredly 
 written by a Muslim. The mode adopted is that of 
 self-remonstrance : — 
 
 ' Fool, for thy fear of death and boding of surcease, 
 When from extinction springs a life of endiess bliss; 
 
 Soon as in 'Isâ's breath I grow a living soul 
 Eternal death shall leave my little life in peace.' (39) 
 
 * " Thou knovvest neither bread nor salt," — a periphrasis 
 
 for the basest ingratitude in host or guest.
 
 cxxn 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 The 
 Persian 
 idea of 
 Jesus 
 
 " The quickening breath of Jesus is frequently made 
 a poetic figure by the Persians, and sometimes, as in 
 the Masîbat-nâmah of 'Attâr, the effect of its miracu- 
 lous exertion is described ; but nowhere, so far as we are 
 aware, is the spiritual significance so beautifully brought 
 out as in the above. We must, however, bear in mind 
 that, by the Persian, Jesus was regarded less as the 
 penultimate prophet of Islam than as the supreme 
 Sûfî, the master-mystic who has attained absolute iden- 
 tity with Deity, and who was, to all who followed in 
 the same path of contemplation and purity, at once a 
 Teacher and a Type. 
 
 "There is yet one aspect more of 'Umar's mind in 
 which we have not contemplated him, and this is a 
 very amiable one. With it let us take our leave of him, 
 laying at his feet our feeble tribute of admiration and 
 sympathy, in the hope that the circle of his true friends 
 and faithful interpreters may widen, and that, in his 
 own words, he may bind many a heart to him hereafter 
 in the cords of love : — 
 
 4 Tho' the world's face thou make all populous to be, 
 'T is far less than to bring one sorrowing heart in glee ; 
 If thou by graciousness but make one freeman bond, 
 'T is better than to set a thousand bondmen free.' " (444) 
 
 VII. 
 
 FitzGer- 
 ald's ingen- 
 ious mosaic 
 
 These protests raised by Persian scholars 
 against the representation of Omar which is based 
 on FitzGerald's poem, certainly seem to have 
 a basis of justification. His Rubâ'iy-sequence, 
 which has been well called " the highest expo-
 
 Introduction. cxxiii 
 
 nent of Agnosticism," is not so much a graft- 
 ing of the effusions of Anakreon upon Lucretius, 
 as it is a reincarnation. Koheleth is born again in 
 Omar, and, after a half millennium, in Edward 
 FitzGerald. A Liszt takes a number of isolated 
 Hungarian nep or popular songs born among the 
 people, and weaves them into a gorgeous rhap- 
 sody. The isolated becomes the united. Modern 
 genius furnishes the simple melody with compli- 
 cated harmony. 
 
 But on the other hand it is also a question 
 whether, if it had not been for the genius of the 
 modern, Omar would ever have won any very 
 exalted place in the estimation of Europe. An 
 accomplished Arabic scholar, born in the East, 
 writes : — 
 
 " Persian is rather off my beat ; and, in my judgment, Dr. Talcott 
 Omar owes more to FitzGerald than he does to him- "Williams's 
 self, as far as English readers are concerned. I do not letter 
 mean by this that Omar's thought differs with the 
 utterances of FitzGerald's translation, but the utter- 
 ance owes so much in our language to the form in 
 which FitzGerald has cast it, that I have always felt, in 
 the few quatrains which I have laboriously translated, 
 that pretty much everything had evaporated when the 
 thought was taken out of FitzGerald's setting. The 
 truth is, in literature, form is everything. Everybody 
 has the same ideas, I fancy, and it is only the capacity 
 for expression which makes literature. . . . 
 
 " I presume you know that Omar by no means casts 
 the shade over his native fields which he does over 
 ours. Sadi and Ilafiz, especially the latter, rank far 
 higher. The few Persians whom I have known — and I
 
 cxxiv Introduction. 
 
 do not think I have talked with over three or four — all 
 knew of Omar and had read him, but they had no 
 Foe enthusiasm over him. In fact, the vogue which Omar 
 
 has with us is not unlike that which Poe has in France. 
 As of course you know, our young French friends 
 think Poe is immeasurably our greatest poet, and when 
 they rhyme about him with an accent over the e, pro- 
 duce very extraordinary results ; and the Persians I 
 have known, when I opened on Omar acted very much 
 as I did when a young Frenchman congratulated me 
 on belonging to the nation which had produced the 
 amazing genius of Poe." 
 
 This correspondent adds : — 
 
 " I really cannot exaggerate the difference between 
 native and European knowledge of an Oriental lan- 
 guage. We generally know their formal grammar, 
 history and derivatives of their tongues especially, a 
 hundredfold better than they do ; but when it comes 
 to the meaning of a particular passage, we are simply 
 nowhere. It is a simple and soul-humbling truth that 
 the first translation or two of almost any Oriental 
 work is full of the wildest shot." 
 
 The actual The actual meaning of Omar's verses is now 
 Omar definitely established. FitzGerald's free moderni- 
 
 zation may be corrected by comparison with any 
 one of a dozen versions in prose and in rhyme, in 
 English, in French, and in German. They are 
 here presented convenient of access. There is no 
 excuse for misunderstanding the old Persian. But 
 however interesting we may find Omar himself 
 in the phases neglected by FitzGerald, however 
 he may rise morally above the pessimistic and
 
 Introduction. cxxv 
 
 even nihilistic impression which FitzGerald's para- 
 phrase may leave upon many readers, it is after all 
 to FitzGerald's poem that we shall ever look. 
 Almost the last word of praise of that work has 
 been said by Algernon Charles Swinburne in a note 
 to his essay on Matthew Arnold's New Poems* 
 Mr. Swinburne says: — 
 
 " Far better than in the long literal version of Omar Swin- 
 
 Khàyyàm, which is all that the French language can burne's 
 
 show, may the soul and spirit of his thought be tasted tribute 
 
 in that most exquisite English translation, sovereignly to Fitz- 
 
 faultless in form and colour of verse, which gives to trerald 
 those ignorant of the East a relish of the treasure and 
 a delight in the beauty of its wisdom." 
 
 And in his Essay on Social Verse f he calls 
 FitzGerald " the man whose sly audacity of diffi- 
 dent and daring genius has given Omar Khayyam 
 a place for ever among the greatest of English 
 poets." 
 
 He goes on : — 
 
 " That the very best of his exquisite poetry, the Elegance, 
 strongest and serenest wisdom, the sanest and most distinction, 
 serious irony, the most piercing and the profoundest and grace 
 radiance of his gentle and sublime philosophy, belong 
 as much or more to Suffolk, than to Shiraz, has been, 
 
 * Essays and Studies, 1875. McCarthy says : "To Mr. 
 Swinburne Omar owes the most eloquent tribute in the Eng- 
 lish language, the words which are to be found in a note to the 
 essay on Blake." Several careful searches through the essay 
 on Blake text and notes failed to reveal this tribute. 
 
 t Studies in Prose and Poetry, 1S94.
 
 CXXV1 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 if I mistake not, an open secret for many years — and 
 as Dogberry says, 'It will go near to be thought so 
 shortly.' Every quatrain, though it is something so 
 much more than graceful or distinguished or elegant, 
 is also, one may say, the sublimation of elegance, the 
 apotheosis of distinction, the transfiguration of grace : 
 perfection of style can go no further and rise no higher, 
 as thought can pierce no deeper and truth can speak 
 no plainer than in the crowning stanza, which of course 
 would have found itself somewhat out of place beside 
 even the grandest and the loftiest poem (Mrs. Barbauld's 
 immortal lines on life, old age, and death) admitted or 
 admissible into such a volume as this." 
 
 Fitz- 
 Gerald's 
 crowning 
 stanza 
 
 By the "crowning stanza" Mr. Swinburne means 
 the famous one which has so puzzled the Persian 
 students of Omar : — 
 
 Oh Thou who man of baser earth didst make, 
 And who with Eden didst devise the Snake, 
 For all the sin where with the face of man 
 Is Blackened, man's forgiveness give — and take! 
 
 Omar as 
 presented 
 by his 
 translators 
 
 But Omar, whether presented in the glowing, 
 vital, consistent splendor of FitzGerald's elegy, or 
 in the desultory, fragmentary, alphabetical con- 
 tradictoriness of Nicolas, McCarthy, and Whin- 
 field, or in the analytical presentation, independ- 
 ently made, by Professor Cowell and Mrs. Cadell 
 and C. J. Pickering and H. G. Keene, or in the 
 sympathetic grace of our American translator, 
 John Leslie Garner, when at his best, — old 
 Omar stands clearly outlined before our vision, 
 a figure who appeals to our love and admiration.
 
 m science 
 and poetry 
 
 In ti in/ u et ion . cxxv i i 
 
 We forget the distance in time and space which 
 separates him from us. We instinctively feel that 
 if he should reappear in our clay, we should claim 
 him as a friend ; that, without shock of sudden 
 change, he would take his place in the van of our 
 science, as he was in the van of his own; that he Omar as 
 would be a leader of modern thought, as he was a leader 
 ahead of the thought of his contemporaries ; that 
 he would as well now, in a day when, however 
 falsely, it is often claimed that poetry is decadent, 
 voice the doubts and aspirations of humanity in 
 melodious verse, just as he in his own day, for an 
 audience select and few, for the world-brotherhood 
 of high culture, voiced all the great problems that 
 have puzzled the keenest minds since the begin- 
 ning of civilization. 
 
 It has been thought by some that the interest The 
 in Omar Khayyam, which is now so widespread, ° mar cult 
 is only ephemeral ; the contrary is true, for there no a 
 is a constantly increasing number of thinkers to 
 whom Omar's utterances appeal as the clearest 
 expression of their own half-melancholy, half- 
 jocular, but wholly serene and trustful views of 
 life and of the future. 
 
 It was part of the original design of this edition The com- 
 
 of Omar Khayyam to include a large number of parative 
 
 comparative excerpts from earlier and later au- literature 
 
 thors, giving a s it were a synoptic digest of the 
 
 . ,. ö r . : T . ° . . cism 
 
 poetic literature of agnosticism. It is surprising 
 
 to see how far it extends back into the dim ages 
 
 of antiquity, running like a sombre thread along 
 
 with the lofty dignity of Job. forming a pathetic
 
 cxxviii Introduction. 
 
 minor amid the grand major chords of the Psalms, 
 cropping out in the books of the Apocrypha, * 
 
 * An interesting example of Apocryphal anticipation of 
 Omar is found in chapter ii. of the " Wisdom of Solomon " : 
 
 " i For the ungodly said, reasoning with themselves, but not 
 aright, Our life is short and tedious, and in the death of a 
 man there is no remedy : neither was there any man known 
 to have returned from the grave. 
 
 " 2 For we are born at all adventure : and we shall be here- 
 after as though we had never been : for the breath in our 
 nostrils is as smoke, and a little spark in the moving of our 
 heart : 
 
 " 3 Which being extinguished, our body shall be turned into 
 ashes, and our spirit shall vanish as the soft air, 
 
 "4 And our name shall be forgotten in time, and no man 
 shall have our works in remembrance, and our life shall pass 
 away as the trace of a cloud, and shall be dispersed as a mist, 
 that is driven away with beams of the sun, and overcome with 
 the heat thereof. 
 
 " 5 For our time is a very shadow that passeth away; and 
 after our end there is no returning : for it is fast sealed, so 
 that no man cometh again. 
 
 " 6 Come on therefore, let us enjoy the good things that are 
 present : and let us speedly use the creature like as in youth. 
 
 " 7 Let us fill ourselves with costly wine and ointments : and 
 let no flower of the spring pass by us : 
 
 " S Let us crown ourselves with rosebuds before they be 
 withered." 
 
 But the author of the " Wisdom of Solomon " is not satis- 
 fied with this conclusion. He brings out the contrast: "For 
 God created man to be immortal, and made him to be an 
 image of his own eternity;" and he adds, "the souls of the 
 righteous are in the hand of God and there shall no torment 
 touch them." 
 
 For profoundness of philosophy there is nothing in Omar 
 that comes up to the superb faith of St. Paul, who cries, " All
 
 Introduction. cxxix 
 
 represented in the magnificent choruses of the Gratitude 
 Hellenic drama as well as in the gay and appar- to whom 
 ently careless drinking-songs of Anakreon and gratl u e 
 Horace. Persian poetry would have furnished 
 a whole storehouse of analogous quotations ; it 
 echoes and re-echoes in the Orphic utterances of 
 Goethe* and in the sonnets of our own Shake- 
 speare. 
 
 things work together for good ! " On the other hand, there is 
 nothing in Omar, whom the Hungarian translator calls the 
 Cynic, more hopeless than these lines from Job (x. 20-22) : 
 
 " Let me alone that I may take comfort a little, 
 
 Before I go whence I shall not return, 
 Even to the land of darkness and of the shadow of death, 
 
 A land of thick darkness, as darkness itself 
 A land of the shadow of death, without any order, 
 
 And where the light is as darkness." 
 
 In the same spirit, perhaps, Browning sings : — 
 
 " Swift as a weaver's shuttle fleet our years ; 
 Man goeth to the grave, and where is he ? " 
 
 * The affinity between Omar and Goethe seems to have 
 impressed the French. The late Ernest Kenan in his Annual 
 Report to the Société Asiatique in July, 1S68, speaking of 
 Nicolas's translation of " Kheyyâm " said : — 
 
 " Mathématicien, poëte, mystique en apparence, débauché 
 en réalité, hypocrite consommé, mêlant le blasphème à l'hymne 
 mystique, le rire à l'incrédulité, Kheyyâm est peut-être l'homme 
 le plus curieux à étudier pour comprendre ce qu'a pu devenir 
 le libre génie de la Perse sous l'étreinte du dogmatisme musul- 
 man. La traduction des quatrains a obtenu un grand succès 
 en dehors du monde des orientalistes. Des critiques exercés 
 
 9
 
 cxxx 
 
 Introduction. 
 
 The 
 
 abundance 
 of Omar 
 Khayyam 
 literature 
 
 Occasionally brief quotations from other poets 
 have been introduced as illustrative of thought or 
 expression, but much material collected had to 
 be omitted, the abundance of strictly appropriate 
 Omar Khayyam literature precluding the further 
 increase of the book. The principal design of 
 the edition was to present Omar himself, and 
 assuredly the combination of all the various trans- 
 lations ought to strike an average which in spite 
 of Cervantes's dictum* will fairly represent the 
 original : a sort of composite photograph. 
 
 I cannot end this preface without expressing 
 my gratitude to those who by their sympathy and 
 
 ont tout de suite senti sous cette enveloppe singulière un frère 
 de Goethe ou de Henri Heine." 
 
 And C. Barbier de Meynard, in his " Poésie en Perse," p. 40 
 (Paris, 1877), makes brief mention of Omar in almost the 
 same words : — ■ 
 
 " C'est en Perse seulement qu'elle [la doctrine de soufisme] 
 pouvait se propager et s'affirmer dans des œuvres littéraires 
 telles, par exemple, que les Quatrains de Khayyam. Que ce 
 livre soit, comme on l'a prétendu, une protestation contre le 
 dogmatisme musulman, ou qu'il soit le produit d'une imagi- 
 nation-maladive, singulier mélange de scepticisme, d'ironie et 
 de négation amère, il n'en est pas moins curieux de trouver en 
 Perse, dès le xi e Siècle, des précurseurs de Goethe et de 
 Henri Heine." 
 
 * " Le quitô mucho de su natural valor, y mismo harân todos 
 aquellos que los libros de verso quisieren volver en otra 
 lengua, que por mucho cuidado que pongan y habilidad que 
 muestren, jamâs llegarân al punto que ellos tienen en su 
 primer nacimiento." 
 
 These are the words of the Curate, but they probably repre- 
 sent Cervantes's own ideas.
 
 Introduction. cxxxi 
 
 encouragement have greatly lightened what has Gratitude 
 been a long and laborious, though absorbing and to whom 
 fascinating labor. And first, to the publisher, e ratit ude 
 whose faith has kept increase with the demands 1S ue 
 upon his patience and his generosity, in allowing 
 the work to exceed its at first projected dimen- 
 sions, and who has put no obstacle in the way of 
 its complete realization. And next to Mr. John 
 Leslie Garner, of Milwaukee, who with truly Omar 
 Khayyamesque modesty allowed me to make use 
 not only of his own translation, but also of the 
 learning which distinguishes him. My thanks 
 are also due to the other translators of Omar, 
 most of whom, residing at a distance, have been 
 out of the reach of direct application, but whose 
 work I have, with pride in their accomplishments 
 and gratitude for their admirable services, drawn 
 upon for the purposes of the comparison. The 
 Boston Public Library and the Athenaeum have 
 placed every facility at the service of this work. 
 
 Mr. Charles Eliot Norton has more than once 
 allowed me to make use of his precious copies of 
 the original first and second editions of FitzGerald, 
 and the first copy of the first edition which I had 
 for comparison was intrusted to me in a perfect 
 and magnificently bound copy by Mr. Frederick 
 W. French of Boston. Colonel Higginson allowed 
 me to use his copy of the third edition bearing the 
 variants of the first and second editions, and I 
 have thus been enabled to compare every quota- 
 tion with the original text. 
 
 I have taken all pains possible to avoid inac-
 
 cxxxii Introduction. 
 
 curacies, but eyes are prone to oversee, and types 
 are subject to the " total depravity of inanimate 
 things," so that conceit cannot blind me to the 
 certainty that, after all, words will be found mis- 
 placed and punctuation imperfect. Notification 
 of errors found, and any criticism, however severe, 
 will be gratefully received by the editor, 
 
 NATHAN HASKELL DOLE. 
 
 " Hedgecote," Glen Road, 
 Jamaica Plain (Boston), 
 February, 1896.
 
 OMAR KHAYYAM, 
 
 THE ASTRONOMER-POET OF PERSIA. 
 
 (BY EDWARD FITZGERALD.) 
 
 With Variants of Edition I. 
 
 Omar Khayyam was born at Naishâpûr in Khorasan ! in 
 the latter half of our Eleventh, and died within the First 
 Quarter of our Twelfth, Century. The slender Story of his 
 Life is curiously twined about that of two other 2 very 
 considerable Figures in their Time and Country : one of 
 whom tells the Story of all Three. 3 This was Nizam ul 
 Mulk, Vizyr to Alp Arslan the Son, and Malik Shah the 
 Grandson, of Toghrj.il Beg the Tartar, who had wrested 
 Persia from the feeble Successor of Mahmud the Great, and 
 founded that Seljukian Dynasty which finally roused Europe 
 into the Crusades. This Nizâm ul Mulk, in his Wasiyat* — 
 
 1 Ed. I: Khorassân. ' Ed. I: others. 
 
 3 Ed. I : one of them, Hasan al Sabbâh, whose very Name has 
 lengthen'd down to us as a terrible Synonym for Murder: and the 
 other (who also tells the Story of all Three) Nizâm al .Mulk, Vizyr 
 to Alp the Lion and Malik Shah Son and Grandson of. 
 
 4 Ed. I : YVasyat ; in ( 'owell's article, Wasiyah.
 
 cxxxiv Omar Khayyam, 
 
 or Testament — which he wrote and left as a Memorial for 
 future Statesmen — relates the following, as quoted in the 
 Calcutta Review, No. 59, from Mirkhond's History of the 
 Assassins : — 
 
 " ' One of the greatest of the wise men of Khorassan was 
 ' the Imam Mowaffak of Naishâpûr, 1 a man highly honoured 
 ' and reverenced, — may God rejoice his soul ; his illustrious 
 ' years exceeded eighty-five, and it was the universal belief 
 ' that every boy who read the Koran or studied the traditions 
 ' in his presence, would assuredly attain to honour and happi- 
 1 ness. For this cause did my father send me from Tüs to 
 'Naishâpûr 1 with Abd-us-samad,' 2 the doctor of law, that I 
 ' might employ myself in study and learning under the guid- 
 ' ance of that illustrious teacher. Towards me he ever 
 ' turned an eye of favour and kindness, and as his pupil I felt 
 ' for him extreme affection and devotion, so that I passed four 
 ' years in his service. When I first came there, I found two 
 ' other pupils of mine own age newly arrived, Hakim Omar 
 ' Khayyam, and the ill-fated Ben Sabbâh. Both were en- 
 ' dowed with sharpness of wit and the highest natural powers ; 
 ' and we three formed a close friendship together. When 
 ' the Imam rose from his lectures, they used to join me, 
 ' and we repeated to each other the lessons we had heard. 
 ' Now Omar was a native of Naishâpûr, 1 while Hasan Ben 
 'Sabbâh's father was one Ali, a man of austere life and 
 'practice, but heretical in his creed and doctrine. [He 
 had long sojourned in the Province of Rei. where Abu 
 
 1 Ed. I : Naishâpûr. " Ed. I : Abd-u-samad.
 
 The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. exxxv 
 
 Moslim Rcizi was governor, a man of pure life and or- 
 thodox principles, who, like a good Musulman as he was, 
 shewed deep enmity to such a heretic. But Ali still kept 
 close at his side, and by lying oaths and protestations, 
 sought to clear himself from the insane words and actions 
 laid to his charge. Now the Imam Mowaffak was followed 
 as an example by all orthodox Musulmans ; and so this un- 
 happy man, to remove all suspicion of his heresies, brought 
 his son to Naishâpur, and made him attend the lectures 
 of the Imam. He himself chose a life of asceticism in a 
 cloister ; but even while there, men rumoured speeches of 
 heresy that he had uttered, sometimes of one kind and 
 sometimes of another. But to my story, — ] One day 
 ' Hasan said to me and to Khayyam, ' It is a universal 
 ' belief that the pupils of the Imam Mowaffak will attain 
 ' to fortune. Now, even if we all do not attain thereto, 
 ' without doubt one of us will ; what then shall be our 
 'mutual pledge and bond?' We answered, 'Be it what 
 'you please.' 'Well,' he said, 'let us make a vow, that to 
 ' whomsoever this fortune falls, he shall share it equally 
 ' with the rest, and reserve no pre-eminence for himself.' 
 " Be it so,' we both replied, and on those terms we mutually 
 'pledged our words. Years rolled on, and I went from 
 ' Khorassan to Transoxiana, and wandered to Ghazni and 
 ' Cabul ; and when I returned, I was invested with office, 
 ' and rose to be administrator of affairs during the Sultanate 
 ' of Sultan Alp Arslân.' [All editions here omit five lines of 
 Cowell, as well as the bracketed paragraph above.]
 
 cxxxvi Omar Khayyàm, 
 
 " He goes on to state, that years passed by, and both his 
 old school-friends found him out, and came and claimed 
 a share in his good fortune, according to the school-day 
 vow. The Vizier was generous and kept his word. Hasan 
 demanded a place in the government, which the Sultan 
 granted at the Vizier's request ; but discontented with a 
 gradual rise, he plunged into the maze of intrigue of an 
 oriental court, and failing in a base attempt to supplant his 
 benefactor, he was disgraced and fell. [His subsequent 
 adventures are one of the romances of Oriental history. — C] 
 After many mishaps and wanderings, Hasan became the 
 head of the Persian sect of the Ismailians, — a party of 
 fanatics who had long murmured in obscurity, but rose to 
 an evil eminence under the guidance of his strong and evil 
 will. In a.D. 1 1090, he seized the castle of Alami'it, in the 
 province of Rüdbar, which lies in the mountainous tract 
 south of the Caspian Sea; [Here he fixed his stronghold] 
 and it was from this mountain home he 2 obtained that evil 
 celebrity among the Crusaders as the OLD MAN OF THE 
 MOUNTAINS, 3 and spread terror through the Mohamme- 
 dan world ; and it is yet disputed whether the word Assas- 
 sin, which they have left in the language of modern Europe 
 as their dark memorial, is derived from the hashish, or 
 opiate of hemp-leaves (the Indian bhang), with which they 
 maddened themselves to the sullen pitch of oriental des- 
 
 1 Ed. I : A. B. 2 Cowell : that the Shekh. 
 
 3 Cowell : From Alami'it issued those fierce fanatics who, in blind 
 devotion to their chief's commands, spread.
 
 llic Astronomer- Poet of Persia. exxxvii 
 
 peration, or from the name of the founder of the dynasty, 
 whom we have seen in his quiet collegiate days, at Naish- 
 âpûr. [To complete the picture, we need only add that,] 
 One of the countless victims of the assassin's dagger was 
 Nizâm- ul-Mulk himself, the old school-boy friend.* 
 
 " Omar Khayyam also came to the Vizier to claim his 
 share ; but not to ask for title or office. ' The greatest 
 'boon you can confer on me,' he said, 'is to let me live in a 
 'corner under the shadow of your fortune, to spread wide 
 'the advantages of Science, and pray for your long life and 
 'prosperity.' The Vizier tells us, that, when he found [that 
 he] Omar was really sincere in his refusal, he pressed 
 him no further, but granted him a yearly pension of 1,200 
 mithkàls of gold, from the treasury o{' Naishâpûr. 1 
 
 "At Naishâpûr thus lived and died Omar Kavvam, 
 'busied,' adds the Vizier, 'in winning knowledge of every 
 ' kind, and especially in Astronomy, wherein he attained to 
 'a very high pre-eminence. Under the Sultanate of Malik 
 ' Shah, he came to Merv, and obtained great praise for his 
 ' proficiency in science, and the Sultan showered favours 
 ' upon him.' [Of Omar's attainments as an astronomer we 
 have ample proof. — C] 
 
 1 Ed. I : Naishâpûr. 
 
 * Some of Omar's Rubâiyât warn us of the danger of Greatness, 
 the instability of Fortune, and while advocating Charity to ill Men, 
 recommending us to be too intimate with none. Attâr makes \i/am- 
 ul-Mulk use the very words of his friend Omar [Rub. xxviii.] [xxxi., Ed. 
 II], "When Nizâm-ul-Mulk was in the Agony (of Death) he said, 
 ' Oh God ! I am passing away in the hand of the Wind."' [This note 
 not in Ed. I.]
 
 cxxxviii Omar Khayyam, 
 
 " When Malik Shah determined to reform the calendar, 
 Omar 1 was one of the eight learned men employed to do it ; 
 [and] the result was the Jalàli era (so called from Jalàl- 
 ud-din, 2 one of the king's names) — 'a computation of time,' 
 says Gibbon, 'which surpasses the Julian, and approaches 
 the accuracy of the Gregorian style.' He is also the author 
 of some astronomical tables, entitled Ziji-Malikshâhi," 3 and 
 the French have lately republished and translated an Arabic 
 Treatise of his on Algebra. [These severer Studies, and 
 his Verses, which, though happily fewer than any Persian 
 Poet's, and, though perhaps fugitively composed, the Result 
 of no fugitive Emotion or Thought, are probably the Work 
 and Event of his Life, leaving little else to record. Perhaps 
 he liked a little Farming too, so often as he speaks of the 
 " Edge of the Tilth " on which he loved to rest with his 
 Diwân of Verse, his Loaf, — and his Wine. — Ed. I.] 
 
 [Of the particular incidents of his life we know little 
 enough, but probably there was little to know. A life like 
 his, spent in quiet toil, — 
 
 And hiving knowledge with studious years, — 
 
 leaves little for the chronicler to record. — C.] 
 
 '•'His Takhallus or poetical name (Khayyam) signifies a 
 Tent-maker, and he is said to have at one time exercised 
 
 1 Cowell: he. 2 Y.&.\,Jalal-nl-din; 1Là..Y\,Jalal-u-din. 
 
 3 Cowell: entitled Ziji-Malikshâhi and we have placed at the 
 head of our article a treatise of his which has been lately translated 
 and published in Europe.
 
 The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. < xxxix 
 
 that trade, perhaps before Nizâm-ul-Mulk's generosity raised 
 him to independence. Many Persian poets similarly derive 
 their names from their occupations; thus we have Attar, 'a 
 
 druggist,' Assâr, 'an oil presser,' &c* Omar himself alludes 
 to his name in the following whimsical lines : — 
 
 ' Khayyam, who stitched the tents of science, 
 Has fallen in grief's furnace and been suddenly burned; 
 The shears of Fate have cut the tent ropes of his life, 
 And the broker of Hope has sold him for nothing ! ' 
 
 [Kheyam, qui cousait les tentes de la philosophie, Nicolas 
 est tombe tout à coup dans le creuset du chagrin 
 et s'y est brûlé. Les ciseaux de la Parque sont 
 venus trancher le fil de son existence, et le reven- 
 deur empressé l'a cédé pour rien. 
 
 Khayyam, who sewed the tents of learning, has McCarthy 
 fallen suddenly into the crater of despair, and there 
 lies calcined. The knife of fate has cut his being's 
 thread, and the impatient world has sold him for a 
 song. 
 
 Khayyam, who long time stitched the tents of Whinfield 
 learning, ( 8 ^) 
 
 Has fallen into a furnace, and lies burning, 
 
 Death's shears have cut his thread of life 
 asunder, 
 
 Fate's brokers sell him off with scorn and spurning. 
 
 * Though all these, like our Smiths, Archers, Millers, Fletchers, 
 &C, may simply retain the Surname of an hereditary calling. I In 
 Ed. I this follows in the text in a parenthesis.]
 
 cxl Omar Khayyam, 
 
 Garner Khayyam, who stitched the Tents of Wisdom's 
 
 (XL 9) Lore, 
 
 Is fallen in the Pit and covered o'er ; 
 
 Death's shears have cut the Tent-ropes of his 
 Life 
 The World has cast him out as worthless Store. 
 
 Von Schaek Der ich der Weisheit Zelte sonst genäht, nun vom 
 ( 2 °4) Geschicke, 
 
 Das im Zerstören sich gefällt und Morden, 
 Zerschnitten wurden mir in Gram und Weh des 
 Lebens Stricke 
 Und sind für nichts versteigert worden. 
 
 Bodenstedt Chajjam, der die Zelte des Wissens genäht, 
 (III. 9) Versinkt einst in's Nichts mit all' seinem Gerät. 
 Durchschnitten wird ihm der Lebensfaden, 
 Und die Welt verkauft seinen Nachlass mit 
 Schaden. 
 
 The poet, says Bodenstedt, signifies by this humorous 
 conclusion how little he takes into account the impor- 
 tance of being understood by the valgus profanum.] 
 
 " We have only one more anecdote to give of his Life, 
 and that relates to the close ; [related] it is told in the anony- 
 mous preface which is sometimes prefixed to his poems ; it 
 has been printed in the Persian in the appendix to Hyde's 
 Veterum Persarum Religio, p. 499; and D'Herbelot al- 
 ludes to it in his Bibliothèque, under Khiam : — * 
 
 * [Ed. I : Though he attributes the story to a Khiam,] " Philo- 
 sophe Musulman qui a vécu en Odeur de Sainteté dans la Fin du
 
 The Astronomer-Poet of Persia. cxli 
 
 " ' It is written in the chronicles of the ancients that 
 'this king of the wise, Omar Khayyam, died at Naishâpûr 
 
 premier et le Commencement du second Siècle," no part of which, 
 except the " Philosophe," can apply to our Khayyam [who, however, 
 may claim the Story as his, on the score of Rubâiyât 77 and 78 of 
 the present Version. The Rashness of the Words according to 
 D'Herbelot, consisted in being so opposed to those in the Koran: 
 " No man knows where he shall die."] 
 
 [D'Herbelot's words copied from the second volume of the edition 
 published at The Hague in 1777 are as follows: — 
 
 " Khiam. Nom d'un Philosophe Musulman qui a vécu en odeur 
 de Sainteté dans sa Religion, vers la fin du premier & le commence- 
 ment du second Siècle de l'IIegire. 
 
 "L'an 105 ou 106 de l'Hegire, un jour ce Philosophe dit, étant en 
 compagnie de cpielques-uns de ses amis : Mon sépulcre doit être en 
 un lieu qui sera couvert de fleurs tous les ans au printemps. Un de 
 ceux qui étoient présens ; & c'est l'Auteur du Livre intitulé Mag'mâ 
 alnaudir, qui raconte cet événement, dit alors en lui-même : Est-il 
 possible qu'un homme si sage avance une parole si contraire à celle 
 de Dieu, qui dit dans l'Alcoran : V ma tadhri nefes beàï ardh tamaut ; 
 Personne ne sçait en quel lieu il mourra. Plusieurs années après, cette 
 même personne étant allée au printemps à Nischabour en Khorassan, 
 pour visiter ce Personnage, qui étoit mort en réputation de Sainteté, 
 trouva que son sépulcre étoit au pied de la muraille d'un jardin, où 
 les arbres chargez de fleurs & entrelassez les uns avec les autres, le 
 couvroient tellement, qu'on ne le voyoit point ; & cela fit qu'il 
 rappella dans sa memoire ce qu'il en avoit entendu dire autrefois." 
 
 Justin Huntly McCarthy thus translates the D'Herbelot legend: 
 
 " Khiam. Name of a Mussulman philosopher who lived in the 
 odour of sanctity in his religion, towards the end of the first and the 
 beginning of the second century of the Hegira. 
 
 " In the year CV or CVI of the Hegira this philosopher, being in 
 the company of certain of his friends, said, ' Man, my sepulchre
 
 cxlii Omar Khayyam, 
 
 'in the year of the Hegira, 517 (a.D. 1123) ; in science 
 ' he was unrivalled, — the very paragon of his age. Khwâ- 
 ' jah Nizâmi of Samarcand, who was one of his pupils, 
 ' relates the following story : ' I often used to hold conver- 
 ' sations with my teacher, Omar Khayyam, in a garden ; 
 ' and one day he said to me, ' My tomb shall be in a spot 
 ' where the north wind may scatter roses over it.' I won- 
 • dered at the words he spake, but I knew that his were 
 ' no idle words.* Years after, when I chanced to revisit 
 
 *The Rashness of the Words, according to D'Herbelot, consisted 
 in being so opposed to those in the Koran : " No Man knows where 
 he shall die." — This Story of Omar [recalls a very different one. — 
 Ed. II] reminds me of another so naturally — and, when one re- 
 members how wide of his humble mark the noble sailor aimed — so 
 pathetically told by Captain Cook — not by Doctor Hawkesworth — 
 in his Second Voyage [i. 374]. When leaving Ulietea, "Oreo's last 
 request was for me to return. When he saw he could not obtain 
 that promise, he asked the name of my Marat — Burying-place. As 
 strange a question as this was, I hesitated not a moment to tell 
 him ' Stepney,' the parish in which I live when in London. I was 
 made to repeat it several times over till they could pronounce it ; 
 and then ' Stepney Marai no Toote [e] ' was echoed through a hun- 
 dred mouths at once. I afterwards found the same question had been 
 put to Mr. Forster by a man on shore ; but he gave a different, and 
 indeed more proper answer, by saying, ' No man who used the sea 
 could say where he should be buried.' " [This note is not in Ed. I.] 
 
 ought to be in some spot where the Spring may cover it with blos- 
 soms every year.' One of those who was present, and who is the 
 author of the book called ' Mag'ma Alnauadir,' who chronicles this 
 event, said thereupon unto himself, ' Is it possible that a man so wise
 
 The Astronomer-Poet of Persia. cxliii 
 
 ' Naishapilr,* I went to his final resting-place, and lo ! it 
 ' was just outside a garden, and trees laden with fruit 
 'stretched their boughs over the garden wall, and dropped 
 'their flowers upon his tomb, so as the stone was hidden 
 ' under them.' " 
 
 Thus far — without fear of Trespass — from the Calcutta 
 Review. The writer of it, on reading in India this story 
 of Omar's Grave, was reminded, he says, of Cicero's Ac- 
 count of finding Archimedes' Tomb at Syracuse, buried in 
 grass and weeds. I think Thorwaldsen desired to have 
 roses grow over him ; a wish religiously fulfilled for him 
 to the present day, I believe. However, to return to 
 Omar. 1 
 
 Though the Sultan " shower' d Favours upon him." 
 Omar's Epicurean Audacity of Thought and Speech caused 
 him to be regarded askance in his own Time and Country. 
 
 1 The sentences from the word " Review " to the paragraph begin- 
 ning " Though " were not in Ed. I. 
 
 should utter words so contrary to those of God who lays it down in 
 the Koran, " No man knows in what spot he shall die ? " ' 
 
 " Many years after, this same individual being on a journey to 
 Nischabour in Khorassan, to visit this personage, who had died in 
 the odour of sanctity, found that his sepulchre was at the foot of 
 the wall of a garden where the trees, loaded with flowers and netted 
 one within the other, so completely covered it, that it was impossible 
 to see it ; and this brought back to his memory what he had heard 
 spoken formerly."] 
 * Ed. I : Naishâpur.
 
 cxliv Omar Khayyâm, 
 
 He is said to have been especially hated and dreaded by 
 the Süfis, whose Practice he ridiculed, and whose Faith 
 amounts to little more than his own when stript of the 
 Mysticism and formal recognition of Islamism under which 
 Omar would not hide. 1 Their Poets, including Hâfiz, who 
 are (with the exception of Firdausi 2 ) the most considerable 
 in Persia, borrowed largely, indeed, of Omar's material, 
 but turning it to a mystical Use more convenient to Them- 
 selves and the People they addressed ; 3 a People quite as 
 quick of Doubt as of Belief; [quite] as keen of [the] 
 Bodily Sense [s] as of [the] Intellectual; and delighting 
 in a cloudy composition of both, 4 in which they could float 
 luxuriously between Heaven and Earth, and this World and 
 the Next, on the wings of a poetical expression, that might 
 serve indifferently for either. 5 Omar was too honest of 
 Heart as well as of Head for this. Having failed (how- 
 ever mistakenly) of finding any Providence but Destiny, 
 and any Work! but This, he set about making the most of 
 it ; preferring rather to soothe the Soul through the Senses 
 into Acquiescence with Things as he saw them, 6 than to 
 perplex it with vain disquietude 7 after what they might be. 
 It has been seen, however, 8 that his Worldly Ambition 9 was 
 
 1 Ed. I : compliment of Islamism which Omar would not hide under. 
 
 2 Ed. I : Firdusi. 3 Ed. I : address'd. 
 
 4 Ed. I : cloudy Element compounded of all. 
 
 5 Ed. I : could be recited indifferently whether at the Mosque or 
 the Tavern. 
 
 6 Ed. T : as they were. 7 Ed. I : mortifications. 
 
 8 Ed. I : It has been seen that. 9 Desires however were.
 
 The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. c \lv 
 
 not exorbitant; and he very likely takes a humorous or 
 perverse pleasure in exalting the gratification of Sense 
 above that of the Intellect, in which he must have taken 
 great delight, although it failed to answer the Questions in 
 which he, in common with all men, was most vitally 
 interested. 1 
 
 1 Ed. I : humourous pleasure in exaggerating them above that 
 Intellect in whose exercise he must have found great pleasure, 
 though not in a Theological direction. However this may be, his 
 Worldly Pleasures are what they profess to be without any Pre- 
 tense at divine Allegory: his Wine is the veritable Juice of the 
 Grape: his Tavern where it was to be had : his Sâki, the Flesh and 
 Blood that poured it out for him: all which, and where the Roses 
 were in Bloom, was all he profess'd to want of this World or to ex- 
 pect of Paradise. 
 
 The Mathematic Faculty, too, which regulated his Fansy, and con- 
 densed his Verse to a Quality, and Quantity unknown in Persian, 
 perhaps in Oriental, Poetry, help'd by its very virtue perhaps to 
 render him less popular with his countrymen. If the Greeks were 
 Children in Gossip, what does Persian Literature imply but a Second 
 Childishness of Garrulity? And certainly if no ungeometric Greek 
 was to enter Plato's School of Philosophy, no so unchastis'd a Per- 
 sian should enter on the Race of Persian Verse, with its "fatal 
 Facility " of running on long after Thought is winded! Put Omar 
 was not only the single Mathematician of his Country's Poets; he 
 was also of that older Time and stouter Temper, before the native 
 Soul of Persia was quite broke by a foreign Creed as well as foreign 
 Conquest. Like his great Predecessor Firdusi, who was as little ol 
 a Mystic; who scorned to use even a Word of the very language 
 in which the New Faith came clothed; and who was suspected, nol 
 of Omar's Irreligion indeed, but of secretly clinging to the ant uni 
 Fire-Religion of Zerdusht, of which so ma:. y of tin- kings lie sang 
 
 were Worshippers. 
 
 io
 
 cxlvi Omar Khayyam, 
 
 For whatever Reason, however, Omar, as before said, 
 has never been popular in his own Country, and therefore 
 has been but scantily 1 transmitted abroad. The MSS. of 
 his Poems, mutilated beyond the average Casualties of 
 Oriental Transcription, are so rare in the East as scarce to 
 have reacht Westward at all, in spite of all the acquisitions 
 of Arms and Science. 2 There is no copy at the India 
 House, none at the Bibliothèque Nationale 3 of Paris. We 
 know but of one in England : No. 140 of the Ouseley 
 MSS. at the Bodleian, written at Shiraz, a. d. 1460. This 
 contains but 158 Rubâiyât. 4 One in the Asiatic Society's 
 Library at Calcutta (of which we have a Copy), contains 
 (and yet incomplete) 516, though swelled to that by all 
 kinds of Repetition and Corruption. So Von Hammer 
 speaks of his Copy as containing about 200, while Dr. 
 Sprenger catalogues the Lucknow MS. at double that 
 number.* The Scribes, too, of the Oxford and Calcutta 
 MSS. seem to do their Work under a sort of Protest ; each 
 beginning with a Tetrastich (whether genuine or not), 
 
 1 Ed. I : charily. 
 
 2 Ed. I : in spite of all that Arms and Science have brought us. 
 There is none. 
 
 3 Eds. I and II: Bibliothèque Imperiale. 
 
 * Ed. I : Rabâiyât. 
 
 * " Since this Paper was written " (adds the Reviewer in a note), 
 "we have met with a Copy of a very rare Edition, printed at Cal- 
 cutta in 1836. This contains 438 Tetrastichs, with an Appendix 
 containing 54 others not found in some MSS."
 
 The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. cxlvii 
 
 taken out of its alphabetical 1 order; the Oxford with one 
 of Apology; the Calcutta with one of Expostulation, 2 sup- 
 posed (says a Notice prefixed to the MS.) to have arisen 
 from a Dream, in which Omar's mother asked about his 
 future fate. It may be rendered thus : — 
 
 "Oh, Thou who burn'st in Heart for those who burn 
 " In Hell, whose fires thyself shall feed in turn : 
 " How long be crying, ' Mercy on them, God ! ' 
 " Why, who art Thou to teach, and He to learn ? " 
 
 [O toi qui as été brûlé, puis brûlé encore, et qui mérites de l'être 
 derechef! toi qui n'es digne que d'aller attiser le feu de l'enfer! 
 jusques à quand prieras-tu la Divinité de pardonner à Omar? Quel 
 rapport existe-t-il entre toi et Dieu? Quelle audace te pousse à lui 
 apprendre à faire usage de sa miséricorde? Nicolas (459) 
 
 Nicolas says that this imprecation against the faithful is all the 
 more curious because it is addressed by the poet to the Shiites (of 
 the sect of AH), who abhor the name of Omar, and that Omar himself 
 bore that name. But perhaps Omar Khayyam did not write it. See 
 Dr. Hyde's Latin translation, in Bibliography, p. 445. 
 
 Thou who hast burned, who burnest, who deservest still to burn 
 feeding the fire of hell, why dost thou call on God to pardon < »mar? 
 What has God to do with thee? How darest thou appeal to his 
 pity? McCarthy (310) 
 
 1 Eds. I and II: alphabetic. 
 
 2 Ed. I. of Execration too stupid for Omar's, even had Omar 
 been stupid enough to execrate himself. [Then omits to " The 
 Reviewer."]
 
 cxlviii Omar Khayyâm, 
 
 Omar ! of burning heart, perchance to burn 
 In hell, and feed its bale-fires in thy turn, 
 Presume not to teach Allah clemency, 
 For who art thou to teach, or he to learn ? 
 
 (Whinfield, 488, 1SS3 ; 253, 1SS2.) 
 
 O Du, der Du verdammt, in der Hölle zu brennen, 
 Wie magst Du Dich als Fürbitter Omar's bekennen! 
 Wie magst Du Gott bitten, sich sein zu erbarmen ! 
 Was hat der Allmächt'ge zu thun mit Dir Armen ! 
 
 (Bodenstedt, X. 23-) 
 
 After his death Omar is said to have appeared to his mother in a 
 dream, and repeated this quatrain to her.] 
 
 The Bodleian Quatrain pleads Pantheism by way of 
 Justification. 
 
 " If I myself upon a looser Creed 
 " Have loosely strung the Jewel of Good deed, 
 " Let this one thing for my Atonement plead ■ 
 "That One for Two I never did mis-read." 1 
 
 The Reviewer, to whom I owe the Particulars of Omar's 
 Life, concludes his Review by comparing 2 him with Lucre- 
 tius, both as to natural Temper and Genius, and as acted 
 upon by the Circumstances in which he lived. Both indeed 
 were men of subtle, strong, and cultivated 3 Intellect, fine 
 
 1 See Appendix XXXIV, Whinfield, 147 (1SS2). 
 
 2 Fd. I : The Reviewer who translates the foregoing Particulars 
 of Omar's Life and some of his Verse into Prose, concludes by com- 
 paring him with Lucretius both in. 
 
 3 Ed. I : " strong and cultivated " not used ; " and high " = fine.
 
 The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. cxlix 
 
 Imagination, and Hearts 1 passionate for Truth and Justii e 
 who justly revolted from their Country's false Religion, and 
 false, or foolish, Devotion to it ; but who [yet] fell short of 
 replacing what they subverted by such better Hope as others, 
 with no better Revelation to guide them,- had yet made a 
 Law to themselves. Lucretius, indeed, with such material 
 as Epicurus furnished, satisfied 3 himself with the theory of a 
 vast machine fortuitously constructed, and acting by a Law 
 that implied no Legislator ; 4 and so composing himself into 
 a Stoical rather than Epicurean severity of Attitude, sat 
 down to contemplate the mechanical Drama of the Universe 
 which he was part Actor in ; 5 himself and all about him 
 (as in his own sublime description of the Roman Theatre) 
 discoloured 6 with the lurid reflex of the Curtain suspended 
 between the Spectator and the Sun. 7 Omar, more des- 
 perate, or more careless of any so complicated s System as 
 resulted in nothing but 9 hopeless Necessity, flung his own 
 Genius and Learning with a bitter or humorous jest 10 into 
 
 1 Ed. I: instructed in Learning beyond their day, and of Hearts. 
 
 2 Ed. I : others upon whom no better Failli hail dawned. 
 
 3 Ed. I : consoled himself with the construction of a Machine that 
 needed no Constructor. 
 
 1 Ed. I : Lawgiver. 
 
 5 Ed. I : of which he was part Actor. 
 
 6 Ed. I : coloured. 
 
 7 Ed. I : that was suspended between them and the outer Sun. 
 
 8 Ed. I : such laborious. 
 
 9 Ed. I : more than. 
 
 ,u Ed. I : with a Litter jest.
 
 c] Omar Khayyam, 
 
 the general Ruin which their insufficient glimpses only 
 served to reveal ; and, 1 pretending sensual pleasure as the 
 serious purpose of Life, only diverted himself with specu- 
 lative problems of Deity, Destiny, Matter and Spirit, Good 
 and Evil, and other such questions, easier to start than to 
 run down, and the pursuit of which becomes a very weary 
 sport at last ! 
 
 With regard to the present Translation. The original 
 Rubdiyât (as, missing an Arabic Guttural, these Tetrastichs 
 are more musically called) are independent Stanzas, con- 
 sisting each of four Lines of equal, though varied, Prosody ; 
 sometimes all rhyming, but oftener (as here imitated) the 
 third line a blank. Sometimes as in 2 the Greek Alcaic, 
 where the penultimate 3 line seems to lift and suspend the 
 Wave that falls over in the last. As usual with such kind 
 of Oriental Verse, the Rubdiyât follow one another according 
 to Alphabetic Rhyme — a strange succession 4 of Grave and 
 Gay. Those here selected are strung into something of an 
 
 1 Ed. I : and yielding his Senses to the actual Rose and Vine, only 
 diverted his thought by balancing ideal possibilities of Fate, Free 
 will, Existence, and Annihilation with an oscillation that so generally 
 inclined to the negative and lower side, as to make Such stanzas as 
 the following exceptions to his general philosophy: [Tlie/i follow the 
 quatrains beginning, Oh, if my soul (XLIV), and, Or is that but a 
 Tent (XLV).] 
 
 2 Ed. I : as here attempted, the third line suspending the Cadence 
 by which the last atones with the former Two. Something as in. 
 
 3 Ed. 1 : third. 
 
 4 Ed. I : Farrago.
 
 The Astronomer- Port of Persia. cli 
 
 Eclogue, with perhaps a less than equal proportion of the 
 "Drink and make merry," which (genuine or not) recurs 
 over-frequently in the Original. [For Lucretian as Omar's 
 Genius might be, he cross'd that darker Mood with much 
 of Oliver de Basselin Humour. — Ed. I.] Either 1 way, the 
 Result is sad enough : saddest perhaps when most ostenta- 
 tiously merry : more apt 2 to move Sorrow than Anger toward 
 the old Tent-maker, who, after vainly endeavouring to un- 
 shackle his Steps from Destiny, and to catch some authentic 
 Glimpse of To-morrow, fell back upon To-d.vs :! (which has 
 outlasted so many To-morrows !) as the only Ground he got 
 to stand upon, however momentarily slipping from under 
 his Feet. 
 
 While the second Edition of this version of Omar was 
 preparing, Monsieur Nicolas, French Consul at Resht, 
 published a very careful and very good Edition of the 
 Text, from a lithograph copy at Teheran, comprising 464 
 Rubâiyât, with translation and notes of his own. 
 
 Mons. Nicolas, whose Edition has reminded me of 
 several things, and instructed me in others, does not con- 
 sider Omar to be the material Epicurean that 1 have liter- 
 ally taken him for, but a Mystic, shadowing the Deity under 
 
 1 Ed. I : any way. 
 
 2 Ed. I : merry, any way fitter. 
 
 3 Ed. I: Tomorrow — Today.
 
 clii Omar Khayyam, 
 
 the figure of Wine, Wine-bearer, &c, as Hâfiz is supposed 
 to do ; in short, a Sufi Poet like Hâfiz and the rest. 
 
 I cannot see reason to alter my opinion, formed as it 
 was more than a dozen years ago when Omar was first 
 shown me by one to whom I am indebted for all I know 
 of Oriental, and very much of other, literature. He ad- 
 mired Omar's Genius so much, that he would gladly have 
 adopted any such Interpretation of his meaning as Mons. 
 Nicolas' if he could.* That he could not, appears by his 
 Paper in the Calcutta Review already so largely quoted ; 
 in which he argues from the Poems themselves, as well as 
 from what records remain of the Poet's Life. 
 
 And if more were needed to disprove Mons. Nicolas' 
 Theory, there is the Biographical Notice which he himself 
 has drawn up in direct contradiction to the Interpretation 
 of the Poems given in his Notes. (See pp. xiii, xiv, of his 
 Preface.) 1 Indeed I hardly knew poor Omar was so far 
 gone till his Apologist informed me. For here we see that, 
 whatever were the Wine that Hâfiz drank and sang, the 
 veritable Juice of the Grape it was which Omar used, not 
 only when carousing with his friends, but (says Mons. 
 
 1 In Fitzgerald, Ed. II, Nicolas's own words are given : see Bibli- 
 ography, p. 469. 
 
 * Perhaps would have edited the Poems himself some years ago. 
 He may now as little approve of my Version on one side, as of 
 Mons. Nicolas' Theory on the other.
 
 The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. clhi 
 
 Nicolas) in order to excite himself to that pitch of Devo- 
 tion which others reached by cries and " hurlemens." 
 And yet, whenever Wine, Wine-bearer, &c, occur in the 
 Text — which is often enough — Mons. Nicolas carefully 
 annotates "Dieu," "La Divinité," &c. : so carefully indeed 
 that one is tempted to think that he was indoctrinated by 
 the Sufi with whom he read the Poems. (Nute to Rub. ii. 
 p. 8.) A Persian would naturally wish to vindicate a dis- 
 tinguished Countryman; and a Süfi to enrol him in his own 
 sect, which already comprises all the chief Poets of Persia. 
 
 What historical Authority has Mons. Nicolas to show 
 that Omar gave himself up "avec passion à l'étude de la 
 philosophie des Soufis"? (Preface, p. xiii.) The Doc- 
 trines of Pantheism, Materialism, Necessity, &c, were not 
 peculiar to the Sufi ; nor to Lucretius before them ; nor to 
 Epicurus before him ; probably the very original Irreligion 
 of Thinking men from the first ; and very likely to be the 
 spontaneous growth of a Philosopher living in an Age of 
 social and political barbarism, under shadow of one of the 
 Two and Seventy Religions supposed to divide the world. 
 Von Hammer (according to Sprenger's Oriental Catalogue) 
 speaks of Omar as " a Free-thinker, and a great opponent 
 of Sufis m ;" perhaps because, while holding much of their 
 Doctrine, he would not pretend to any inconsistent severity 
 of morals. Sir W. Ouseley has written a note to something 
 of the same effect on the flydeaf of the Bodleian MS. And 
 in two Rubâiyât of Mons. Nicolas' own Edition Si'if ami 
 Süfi are both disparagingly named.
 
 cliv Omar Khayyam, 
 
 No doubt many of these Quatrains seem unaccountable 
 unless mystically interpreted ; but many more as unac- 
 countable unless literally. Were the Wine spiritual, for 
 instance, how wash the Body with it when dead? Why 
 make cups of the dead clay to be filled with — '•' La 
 Divinité" by some succeeding Mystic? Mons. Nicolas 
 himself is puzzled by some " bizarres " and " trop Orien- 
 tales " allusions and images — "d'une sensualité quelque- 
 fois révoltante'' indeed — which "les convenances" do 
 not permit him to translate ; but still which the reader 
 cannot but refer to " La Divinité." * No doubt also many 
 of the Quatrains in the Teheran, as in the Calcutta, Copies, 
 are spurious ; such Rubàiyàt being the common form of 
 Epigram in Persia. But this, at best, tells as much one 
 way as another ; nay, the Süfi, who may be considered 
 the Scholar and Man of Letters in Persia, would be far 
 more likely than the careless Epicure to interpolate what 
 
 * A note to Quatrain 234 admits that, however clear the mystical 
 meaning of such Images must be to Europeans, they are not quoted 
 without "rougissant" even by laymen in Persia — "Quant aux 
 termes de tendresse qui commencent ce quatrain, comme tant 
 d'autres dans ce recueil, nos lecteurs, habitués maintenant à l'étran- 
 geté des expressions si souvent employées par Khéyam pour rendre 
 ses pensées sur l'amour divin, et à la singularité des images trop 
 orientales, d'une sensualité quelquefois révoltante, n'auront pas de 
 peine à se persuader qu'il s'agit de la Divinité, bien que cette con- 
 viction soit vivement discutée par les moullahs musulmans, et même 
 par beaucoup de laïques, qui rougissent véritablement d'une pareille 
 licence de leur compatriote à l'égard des choses spirituelles."
 
 The Astronomer- Poet of Persia. civ 
 
 favours his own view of the Poet. 1 observe that very 
 few of the more mystical Quatrains are in the Bodleian 
 MS., which must be one of the oldest, as dated at Shiraz, 
 A. H. 865, A. D. 1460. And this, 1 think, especially dis- 
 tinguishes Omar (I cannot help calling him by his — no, 
 not Christian — familiar name) from all other Persian 
 Poets : That, whereas with them the Poet is lost in his 
 Song, the Man in Allegory and Abstraction ; we seem to 
 have the Man — the Bonhomme — Omar himself, with all 
 his Humours and Passions, as frankly before us as if we 
 were really at Table with him, after the Wine had gone 
 round. 
 
 I must say that I, for one, never wholly believed in the 
 Mysticism of Hafiz. It does not appear there was any 
 danger in holding and singing Sufi Pantheism, so long as 
 the Poet made his Salaam to Mohammed at the beginning 
 and end of his Song. Under such conditions Jelâluddin, 
 Jâmi, Attâr, and others sang; using Wine and Beauty 
 indeed as Images to illustrate, not as a Mask to hide, the 
 Divinity they were celebrating. Perhaps some Allegory 
 less liable to mistake or abuse had been better among so 
 inflammable a People : much more so when, as some think 
 with Hâfiz and Omar, the abstract is not only likened to. 
 but identified with, the sensual Image ; hazardous, if not 
 to the Devotee himself, yet to his weaker Urethren ; and 
 worse for the Profane in proportion as the 1 )evotion of the 
 Initiated grew warmer. And all for what? To be tanta- 
 lized with Images of sensual enjoyment which must be
 
 elvi Omar Khayyam. 
 
 renounced if one would approximate a God, who according 
 to the Doctrine, is Sensual Matter as well as Spirit, and 
 into whose Universe one expects unconsciously to merge 
 after Death, without hope of any posthumous Beatitude in 
 another world to compensate for all one's self-denial in this. 
 Lucretius' blind Divinity certainly merited, and probably 
 got, as much self-sacrifice as this of the Süfi ; and the 
 burden of Omar's Song — if not "Let us eat" — is assur- 
 edly — "Let us drink, for To-morrow we die!" And if 
 Hâfiz meant quite otherwise by a similar language, he 
 surely miscalculated when he devoted his Life and Genius 
 to so equivocal a Psalmody as, from his Day to this, 
 has been said and sung by any rather than spiritual 
 Worshippers. 
 
 However, as there is some traditional presumption, and 
 certainly the opinion of some learned men, in favour of 
 ( )mar's being a Süfi — and even something of a Saint — 
 those who please may so interpret his Wine and Cup- 
 bearer. On the other hand, as there is far more historical 
 certainty of his being a Philosopher, of scientific Insight 
 and Ability far beyond that of the Age and Country he 
 lived in ; of such moderate worldly Ambition as becomes 
 a Philosopher, and such moderate wants as rarely satisfy a 
 Debauchee ; other readers may be content to believe with 
 me that, while the Wine Omar celebrates is simply the 
 Juice of the Grape, he bragg'd more than he drank of it, 
 in very defiance perhaps of that Spiritual Wine which left 
 its Votaries sunk in Hypocrisy or Disgust.
 
 R U B A I Y A T 
 
 OF 
 
 OMAR KHAYYAM OF NAISHÄPÜR. 
 {From FitzGerald 's Second Edition^ 1868.) 
 
 Wake ! For the Sun behind yon Eastern height 
 Has chased the Session of the Stars from Night, 
 
 And, to the field of Heav'n ascending, strikes 
 The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Litrht. 
 
 II. 
 
 Before the phantom of False morning died, 1 
 Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried, 
 " When all the Temple is prepared within, 
 " Why lags the drowsy Worshipper outside ? " 
 
 And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before 
 The Tavern shouted — "Open then the Door! 
 " You know how little while we have to stay, 
 " And, once departed, may return no more."
 
 clviii Rubàiyàt of 
 
 Now the New Year reviving old Desires ' 2 , 
 The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, 
 
 Where the White Hand of Moses on the Bough 
 Puts out, and Jesus from the ground suspires. 3 
 
 Irani indeed is gone with all his Rose, 4 
 
 And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows ; 
 
 But still a Ruby gushes from the Vine, 
 And many a Garden by the Water blows. 
 
 VI. 
 
 And David's lips are lockt ; but in divine 5 
 High-piping Péhlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine! 
 
 " Red Wine ! " — the Nightingale cries to the Rose 
 That sallow cheek of her's to incarnadine. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring 
 Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling : 
 
 The Bird of Time has but a little way 
 To flutter — and the Bird is on the Wing. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Whether at Naishâpiir or Babylon, 
 Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, 
 
 The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, 
 The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.
 
 Omar Khayyàm. dix 
 
 Morning a thousand Roses brings, you say; 
 Yes, but where leaves the Kose of yesterday ? 
 
 And this first Summer month that brings the Rose 
 Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobäd away. 
 
 Well, let it take them ! What have we to do 
 With Kaikobäd the Great, or Kaikhosru ? 
 
 Let Rustum cry " To Battle " as he likes, 7 
 Or Hâtim Tai " To Supper ! " — heed not you. 
 
 With me along the strip of Herbage strown 
 That just divides the desert from the sown, 
 
 Where name of Slave and Sultan is forgot — 
 And Peace to Mâhmud on his golden Throne ! 
 
 Here with a little Bread beneath the Bough, 
 A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse — and Thou 
 
 Beside me singing in the Wilderness — 
 Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow ! 
 
 Some for the Glories of This World ; and some 
 Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come ; 
 
 Ah, take the Cash, and let the Promise go. 
 Nor heed the rumble of a distant Drum ! s
 
 clx Rubàiyàt of 
 
 Were it not Folly, Spider-like to spin 
 
 The Thread of present Life away to win — 
 
 What ? for ourselves, who know not if we shall 
 Breathe out the very Breath we now breathe in ! 
 
 Look to the blowing Rose about us — " Lo, 
 " Laughing," she says, " into the world I blow : 
 
 " At once the silken tassel of my Purse 
 " Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw." 
 
 XVI. 
 
 For those who husbanded the Golden grain, 
 And those who flung it to the winds like Rain, 
 
 Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd 
 As, buried once, Men want dug up again. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon 
 Turns Ashes — or it prospers ; and anon, 
 
 Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face, 
 Lighting a little hour or two — was gone. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai 
 
 Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day, 
 
 How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp 
 Abode his destin'd Hour, and went his way.
 
 Omar Khaxxâm. clxi 
 
 XIX. 
 
 They say the Lion and the Lizard keep 
 
 The Courts wherejamsliyd gloried and drank deep: 10 
 
 And Bahrain, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass 
 Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. 
 
 XX. 
 
 The Palace that to Heav'n his pillars threw, 
 And Kings the forehead on his threshold drew — 
 
 I saw the solitary Ringdove there, 
 And " Coo, coo, coo," she cried; and " Coo, coo, coo." 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears 
 To-day of past Regrets and future Fears : 
 
 To-morrow ! — Why, To-morrow I may be 
 Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years. 12 
 
 For some we loved, the loveliest and the best 
 That from his Vintage rolling Time has 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 ? 
 ii
 
 clxii Rubdiyât of 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 I sometimes think that never blows so red 
 The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled ; 
 
 That every Hyacinth the Garden wears 
 Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head. 
 
 And this delightful Herb whose living Green 
 Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean — 
 
 Ah, lean upon it lightly ! for who knows 
 From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen ! 
 
 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 ! 
 
 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 1 wake — 
 " The Flower that once has blown for ever dies."
 
 Omar Khayyam. clxiii 
 
 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. 
 
 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. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 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." 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Into this Universe, and Why not knowing, 
 Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing : 
 
 And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, 
 I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing. 
 
 What, without asking, hither hurried Whence? 
 And, without asking. Whither hurried hence ! 
 
 Ah, contrite Heav'n endowed us with tin- Vine 
 To drug the memory of that insolence !
 
 clxiv Rubâiydt of 
 
 Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate 
 I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, 13 
 And many Knots unravel'd by the Road; 
 But not the Master-Knot of Human Fate. 
 
 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. 14 
 
 xxxvi. 
 
 Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mourn 
 In flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn; 
 
 Nor Heav'n, with those eternal Signs reveal'd 
 And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn. 
 
 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." 
 
 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 ! — Tor, once dead, you never shall return."
 
 Omar Khayyam. clxv 
 
 xxxix. 
 
 I think the Vessel, that with fugitive 
 Articulation answer'd, once did live, 
 
 And drink; and that impassive Lip I kiss'd, 
 How many Kisses might it take — and give ! 
 
 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 ? 
 
 XLir. 
 
 And not a drop that from our Cups we throw 15 
 On the parcht herbage but may steal below 
 
 To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye 
 There hidden — far beneath, and long ago. 
 
 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.
 
 clxvi Rubàiyàt of 
 
 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. 
 
 And if the Cup you drink, the Lip you press, 
 End in what All begins and ends in — Yes ; 
 
 Imagine then you are what heretofore 
 You -were — hereafter you shall not be less. 
 
 XL VI. 
 
 So when at last the Angel of the darker drink 16 
 Of Darkness finds you by the river-brink. 
 
 And, proffering his Cup, invites your Soul 
 Forth to your Lips to quaff it — do not shrink. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 And fear not lest Existence closing yotir 
 Account, should lose, or know the type no more; 
 
 The Eternal Sâki from that Bowl has pour'd 
 Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour. 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 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 much as Ocean of a pebble-cast.
 
 Omar Khayyàm. clxvii 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 One Moment in Annihilation's Waste, 
 One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste — 
 The Stars are setting, and the Caravan 17 
 Draws to the Dawn of Nothing: — Oh make haste! 
 
 L. 
 
 Would you that spangle of Existence spend 
 About the secret — quick about it, Friend ! 
 
 A Hair, they say, divides the False and True — 
 And upon what, prithee, does Life depend ? 
 
 A Hair, they say, divides the False and True; 
 Yes ; and a single Alif were the clue, 
 
 Could you but find it, to the Treasure-house, 
 And peradventure to The Master too ; 
 
 LII. 
 
 Whose secret Presence, through Creation's veins 
 Running, Quicksilver-like eludes your pains : 
 
 Taking all shapes from Mäh to Mähi ; 18 and 
 They change and perish all — but He remains ; 
 
 LIU. 
 
 A moment guess'd — then back behind the Fold 
 Immerst of Darkness round the Drama roll'd 
 
 Which, for the Pastime of Eternity. 
 He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold.
 
 clxviii Rubàiyàt of 
 
 LIV. 
 
 But if in vain, clown on the stubborn floor 
 
 Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door, 
 
 You gaze To-day, while You are You — how then 
 To-morrow, You when shall be You no more? 
 
 LV. 
 
 Oh, plagued no more with Human or Divine, 
 To-morrow's tangle to itself resign, 
 
 And lose your fingers in the tresses of 
 The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine. 
 
 Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit 
 Of This and That endeavour and dispute ; 
 Better be merry with the fruitful Grape 
 Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit. 
 
 You know, my Friends, how bravely in my House 
 For a new Marriage I did make Carouse : 
 
 Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed, 
 And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse. 
 
 For " Is " and "Is-xot" though with Rule and Line, 19 
 And " Up-and-down " by Logic I define, 
 Of all that one should care to fathom, I 
 Was never deep in anything but — Wine.
 
 O/inii Khayxàm. 
 
 Ah, but my Computations, People say, 
 
 Have squared the Year to human compass, eh ? 
 
 If so, by striking from the Calendar 
 Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday. 
 
 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 ! 
 
 LXI. 
 
 The Grape that can with Logic absolute 
 
 The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute : 20 
 
 The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice 
 Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute : 
 
 LXII. 
 
 The mighty Mahmud, Allah-breathing Lord, 
 That all the misbelieving and black Horde - 1 
 Of fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul 
 Scatters before him with his whirlwind Sword. 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare 
 Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare? 
 
 A Blessing, we should use it, should we not? 
 And if a Curse — why, then, Who set it there ?
 
 clxx Rubàiyât of 
 
 LXIV 
 
 I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must, 
 Scared by some After-reckoning ta'en on trust, 
 Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink, 
 When the frail Cup is crumbled into Dust! 
 
 LXV, 
 
 If but the Vine and Love-abjuring Band 
 Are in the Prophet's Paradise to stand, 
 
 Alack, I doubt the Prophet's Paradise 
 Were empty as the hollow of one's Hand. 
 
 LXVI. 
 
 Oh threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise ! 
 One thing at least is certain — This Life flies 
 
 One thing is certain and the rest is lies ; 
 The Flower that once is blown for ever dies. 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 Strange, is it not ? that of the myriads who 
 Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through 
 
 Not one returns to tell us of the Road, 
 Which to discover we must travel too. 
 
 The Revelations of Devout and Learn'd 
 Who rose before us, and as Prophets burn'd, 
 
 Are all but Stories, which, awoke from Sleep 
 They told their fellows, and to Sleep return'd.
 
 Omar Khayyâm. clxxi 
 
 I. XIX. 
 
 Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside, 
 And naked on the Air of Heaven ride, 
 
 Is't not a shame — is't not a shame for him 
 So long in this Clay suburb to abide ? 
 
 LXX. 
 
 But that is but a Tent wherein may rest 
 A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest ; 
 The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrash 
 Strikes, and prepares it for another guest. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 I sent my Soul through the Invisible, 
 Some letter of that After-life to spell : 
 
 And after many days my Soul return'd 
 And said, " Behold, Myself am Heav'n and Hell 
 
 Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire, 
 And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire, 
 
 Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves, 
 So late emerg'd from, shall so soon expire. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 We are no other than a moving row 
 Of visionary Shapes that come and go 
 
 Round with this Sun-illumin'd Lantern held 
 In Midnight by the Master of the Show ; —
 
 clxxii Rubàiyàt of 
 
 Impotent Pieces of the Game He plays 
 
 Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days ; 
 
 Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays ; 
 And one by one back in the Closet lays. 
 
 The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes, 
 But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes ; 
 
 And He that toss'd you down into the Field, 
 He knows about it all — he knows — HE knows ! 23 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, 
 Moves on : nor all your Piety nor Wit 
 
 Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, 
 Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 For let Philosopher and Doctor preach 
 
 Of what they will, and what they will not — each 
 
 Is but one Link in an eternal Chain 
 That none can slip, nor break, nor over-reach. 
 
 LXXVIII. 
 
 And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky, 
 Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die, 
 
 Lift not your hands to It for help — for It 
 As impotently rolls as you or I.
 
 Omar Khayydtn. 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead. 
 And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed : 
 
 And the first Morning of Creation wrote 
 What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read. 
 
 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. 
 
 I tell you this — When, started from the Goal, 
 Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal 
 
 Of Heav'n Parwfn and Mushtari they flung, 24 
 In my predestin'd Plot of Dust and Soul 
 
 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. 
 
 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.
 
 clxxiv Rubàiyàt of 
 
 What ! out of senseless Nothing to provoke 
 A conscious Something to resent the yoke 
 
 Of unpermitted Pleasure, under pain 
 Of Everlasting Penalties, if broke ! 
 
 LXXXV. 
 
 What ! from his helpless Creature be repaid 
 Pure Gold for what he lent us dross-allay'd — 
 
 Sue for a Debt we never did contract, 
 And cannot answer — Oh the sorry trade ! 
 
 LXXXVI. 
 
 Nay, but, for terror of his wrathful Face, 
 I swear I will not call Injustice grace ; 
 
 Not one Good Fellow of the Tavern but 
 Would kick so poor a Coward from the place. 
 
 Oh Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin 
 Beset the Road I was to wander in, 
 
 Thou wilt not with Predestin'd Evil round 
 Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin ? 
 
 LXXXVIII. 
 
 Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, 
 And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake : 
 
 For all the Sin the Face of wretched Man 
 Is black with — Man's Forgiveness give — and take!
 
 Omar Khayyam. clxxv 
 
 As under cover of departing Day 
 Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazân away, 
 
 Once more within the Potter's house alone 
 I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clay. 
 
 And once again there gather'd a scarce heard 
 Whisper among them ; as it were, the stirr'd 
 Ashes of some all but extinguisht Tongue, 
 Which mine ear kindled into living Word. 
 
 XCI. 
 
 Said one among them — " Surely not in vain, 
 
 " My Substance from the common Earth was ta'en, 
 
 "That He who subtly wrought me into Shape 
 " Should stamp me back to shapeless Earth again ? " 
 
 XCII. 
 
 Another said, "Why, ne'er a peevish Boy 
 
 "Would break the Cup from which he drank in Joy: 
 
 " Shall He that of his own free Fancy made 
 " The Vessel, in an after-rage destroy ! " 
 
 XCIII. 
 
 None answer'd this; but after silence spake 
 Some Vessel of a more ungainly Make ; 
 
 " They sneer at me for leaning all awry : 
 "What ! did the Hand then of the Potter shake ? "
 
 clxxvi Rubàiyat of 
 
 xciv. 
 
 Thus with the Dead as with the Living, What? 
 And Why ? so ready, but the Where/or not, 
 
 One on a sudden peevishly exclaim'd, 
 'Which is the Potter, pray, and which the Pot?' 
 
 xcv. 
 
 Said one — " Folks of a surly Master tell, 
 " And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell ; 
 " They talk of some sharp Trial of us — Pish ! 
 " He's a good Fellow, and 'twill all be well." 
 
 xcvi. 
 
 " Well," said another, " Whoso will, let try, 
 " My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry : 
 " But, fill me with the old familiar Juice, 
 " Methinks I might recover by-and-bye." 
 
 XCVII. 
 
 So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, 
 One spied the little Crescent all were seeking : 25 
 
 And then they jogg'd each other, " Brother ! Brother ! 
 " Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creakin^ " ! 
 
 XCVIII. 
 
 Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, 
 And wash the Body whence the Life has died, 
 
 And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf, 
 By some not unfrequented Garden-side.
 
 Omar Khayyam. 
 
 xcix. 
 
 Whither resorting from the vernal Heat 
 
 Shall Old Acquaintance Old Acquaintance greet, 
 
 Under the Branch that leans above the Wall 
 To shed his Blossom over head and feet. 
 
 Then ev'n my buried Ashes such a snare 
 Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air, 
 
 As not a True-believer passing by 
 But shall be overtaken unaware. 
 
 CI. 
 
 Indeed the Idols I have loved so long 
 
 Have done my credit in Men's eye much wrong: 
 
 Have drown'd my Glory in a shallow Cup, 
 'And sold my Reputation for a Song. 
 
 CIL 
 
 Indeed, indeed, Repentance oft before 
 I swore — but was I sober when I swore? 
 
 And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in-hand 
 My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore. 
 
 And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, 
 And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour — Well, 
 
 I often wonder what the Vintners buy 
 One half so precious as the ware they sell. 
 
 12
 
 clxxviii Rubâiyât of 
 
 Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! 
 That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close 
 
 The Nightingale that in the branches sang, 
 Ah whence, and whither flown again, who knows ! 
 
 cv. 
 
 Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield 
 One glimpse — if dimly, yet indeed, reveal'd, 
 
 Toward which the fainting Traveller might spring, 
 As springs the trampled herbage of the field ! 
 
 Oh if the World were but to re-create, 
 
 That we might catch ere closed the Book of Fate, 
 
 And make The Writer on a fairer leaf 
 Inscribe our names, or quite obliterate ! 
 
 evil. 
 
 Better, oh better, cancel from the Scroll 
 Of Universe one luckless Human Soul, 
 
 Than drop by drop enlarge the Flood that rolls 
 Hoarser with Anguish as the Ages roll. 
 
 cvin. 
 
 Ah Love ! could you and I with Fate conspire 
 To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, 
 Would not we shatter it to bits — and then 
 Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire !
 
 Omar Khayyâm. clxxix 
 
 cix. 
 
 But see ! The rising Moon of Heav'n again 
 
 Looks for us, Sweet-heart, through the quivering Plane 
 
 How oft hereafter rising will she look 
 Among those leaves — for one of us in vain ! 
 
 ex. 
 
 And when Yourself with silver Foot shall pass 
 Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass, 
 
 And in your joyous errand reach the spot 
 Where I made One — turn down an empty Glass! 
 
 TAMÄM.
 
 COMPARATIVE VERSIONS 
 
 RUBAI YAT 
 
 OMAR KHAYYAM, 
 
 Translations of FitzGerald, Nicolas, McCarthy, Kerney, 
 
 Whinfield, Garner, Bodenstedt, and 
 
 Graf von Schack.
 
 RUBAIYAT 
 
 OF 
 
 OMAR KHAYYAM OF NAISHAPUR. 
 
 FitzGerald Wake ! For the Sun who scattered into flight 
 (I.) The Stars before him from the Field of Night, 
 
 1889 Drives Night along with them from J/eav'n, 
 
 and strikes 
 The Sultâiis Turret with a Shaft of Light. 
 
 (I.) Awake ! for Morning in the Bowl of Night 
 
 ,8 59 Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight : 1 
 
 And Lo ! the Hunter of the East has caught 
 The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light. 
 
 (I) Wake ! for the Sun behind yon Eastern height 
 
 186S Has chased the Session of the Stars from Night 
 
 And, to the field of Heav'n ascending, strikes 
 The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light.
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 The Sun doth smite the roofs with Orient ray, 
 And. Khosrau like, his wine-red sheen display ; 
 
 Arise, and drink ! the herald of the dawn 
 Uplifts his voice, and cries, " O drink to-day!" 
 
 Whinfield 
 (*33) 
 
 The Sun has cast about the city towers Garner 
 
 A noose of light; Kai-Kosru-like, he showers Ms. 18 ,-, 
 
 His wine in Morning's cup, — but hark ! a voice 
 Cries out and bids us seize the transient hours ! 
 
 The sun has cast on wall and roof his net of burn- 
 ing light, 
 
 The lordly day fills high the cup to speed the 
 parting night. 
 " Wake ! " cries in silver accents the herafd of 
 the dawn ; 
 
 " Arise and drink! the darkness flies — the morn- 
 ins: rises bright." 
 
 #(■) 
 1S87 
 
 " Flinging a Stone into the Cup was the signal for ' To 
 Horse!' in the Desert." Or, to use FitzGerakl's own words 
 in explanation of the passage in the " Salâmân and Absâl " — 
 That cup of Happiness and Tears 
 In which Farewell has never yet beenflnng — 
 " A pebble flung into a Cup " was "a signal for a company to 
 break up." In FitzGerakl's first draught of Edition III the 
 first and second lines read : — 
 
 Wake ! for the Sun before him into Night 
 A Signal /hint; that put the Stars to flight. 
 In Whinfield, 74 (1S82), Khosru-like . . . drink, and the last 
 line reads : — 
 
 Proclaims the advent of another day.
 
 Rubdiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 
 
 FitzGerald Before the phantom of False morning died, 
 (II) Me thought a Voice within the Tavern cried, 
 
 1889 *t When all the Temple is prepared with in, 
 
 " Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside ? " 
 
 (II.) Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky 2 
 
 1859 I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry, 
 
 " Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup 
 " Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry." 
 
 Nicolas Un matin, j'entendis venir de notre taverne une 
 
 (0 voix qui disait : À moi, joyeux buveurs, jeunes 
 
 1867 fous ! levez-vous, et venez remplir encore une coupe 
 
 de vin, avant que le destin vienne remplir celle 
 
 de votre existence. 
 
 McCarthy There came a voice at dawning from the wine- 
 
 (183) shop, crying, "Arise, ye haunters of the tavern- 
 
 1879 divan, arise, and fill the cannikin before Fate comes 
 
 to fill the cup of your being. 
 
 M. K. Out from our inn, one morn, a voice came roaring, 
 
 188S — " Up ! 
 
 Sots, scamps, and madmen ! quit your heavy 
 snoring ! Up ! 
 Come, pour we out a measure full of wine, and 
 drink ! 
 Ere yet the measure's brimmed for us they're 
 pouring up."
 
 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam, 
 
 At dawn a cry through all the tavern shrilled, 
 " Arise my brethren of the revellers' guild, 
 
 That I may fill our measures full of wine. 
 Or e'er the measure of our days be filled."' 
 
 One Morn while sitting by the Tavern's Door 
 I heard a Voice in Accents Mild Implore 
 
 " Come, fill another Cup with Sparkling Wine, 
 Make Haste, the Cup of Lilt- will soon run o'er.' 1 
 
 The rosy dawn shines through the tavern door 
 And cries, "Wake ! slumbering reveller and pour ! 
 
 For ere my sands of life be all run out, 
 I fain would fill my jars with wine once more." 
 
 Eine Stimme scholl Morgens zu mir aus der 
 Schenke : 
 
 Steh auf, närr'scher Schwärmer, Dein Ikil be- 
 denke — 
 Füll', ehe das Mass unsres Schicksals gelullt 
 ist, 
 
 Ilei uns noch das Mass mit edlem Getränke ! 
 
 Whinfield 
 
 (-) 
 
 Garner 
 (I- J4) 
 
 #(2) 
 1S87 
 
 Bodenstedt 
 
 (IX. 34) 
 1881 
 
 Heut Morgen erscholl ein Ruf aus der Schenke : v °n Schuck 
 •■ ( ) Volk der Zecher, meiner gedenke ! (*39) 
 
 Auf ! auf ! mit Weine das Glas gefüllt, ,8 7 8 
 
 Bevor das Geschik das Mass euch füllt ! " 
 
 See Appendix I.
 
 6 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before 
 (HI-) The Tavern shouted — " Open then the Door ! 
 l88 9 " You know how little while we have to stay, 
 
 "And, once departed, may return no more." 
 
 ( ni ) And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before 
 l8 59 The Tavern shouted — " Open then the Door ! 
 You know how little while we have to stay, 
 And, once departed, may return no more." 
 
 Nicolas 
 (426) 
 
 Sais-tu pourquoi au lever de l'aurore le coq 
 matinal fait à chaque instant entendre sa voix ? 
 C'est pour te rappeler, par le miroir du matin, 
 qu'une nuit vient de s'écouler de ton existence, 
 et que tu es encore dans l'ignorance. 
 
 McCarthy 
 (419) 
 
 Know you why at the hour of the dawning the 
 cock shrills his frequent clarion? It is but to 
 remind you by the mirror of morning, that from 
 your existence a night has slipped, and you are 
 still ignorant. 
 
 Whinfleld When dawn doth silver the dark firmament, 
 (463) Why shrills the bird of dawning his lament? 
 It is to show in dawn's bright looking-glass 
 How of thy careless life a night is spent.
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 7 
 
 The Herald of the Morn, in lusty tone, Garner 
 
 Loud greets the Dawn upon her Golden Throne, (I ' !) 
 
 Again proclaiming to a Slumbering World, 
 Another Night beyond recall has flown. 
 
 Weisst Du, warum so beständig der Halm Bodenstedt 
 
 Seine Stimme erhebt bei des Morgens Nahn ? ^ x - '' 
 
 Er kräht, dass schon wieder die Nacht ent- 
 schwindet 
 Und der kommende Tag Dich nicht klüger findet. 
 
 Wisst ihr, warum der Hahn im Hof am Morgen Von Schack 
 jedes Tages kräht? ( 22 +) 
 
 Ich will euch deuten seinen Ruf, dass ihr ihn 
 rechten Sinn's versteht. 
 
 Er sagt, dass wieder eine Nacht des Lebens euch 
 verstrichen ist 
 
 Und dass ihr immer noch nichts wisst. 
 
 See Appendix I.
 
 8 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 Fitz Gerald Now the New Year 3 reviving old Desires, 
 (iv.) 'f ne thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires, 
 
 ,88 9 Where the White Hand of Moses on the 
 
 1859 D / 
 
 Bough 
 
 Puts out,* and Jesus from the ground suspires. 
 
 Nicolas 
 (186) 
 
 Voici le moment où de verdure va s'orner le 
 monde, où, semblables à la main de Moïse, les 
 bourgeons vont se montrer aux branches ; où, 
 comme ravivées par le souffle de Jésus les plantes 
 vont sortir de terre; où enfin les nuages vont 
 ouvrir les yeux pour pleurer. 
 
 McCarthy Behold, the time is come, when the earth is 
 
 (9O about to clothe itself in verdure, when the blos- 
 
 soms breaking forth over the branches, make them 
 become as the hand of Moses, when, as if quick- 
 ened by the breath of Jesus, the plants spring from 
 the earth, when at last the clouds open their eyes 
 to weep. 
 
 Whinfield Now is the time earth decks her greenest bowers, 
 (201) And trees, like Musa's hand, grow white with 
 
 flowers ! 
 As 'twere at 'Isa's breath the plants revive, 
 While clouds brim o'er, like tearful eyes, with 
 showers.
 
 Rubàiyàt oj Unna Khayyâm. 9 
 
 Snow white, like Musts' hand, the Branches grow, Garner 
 While Clouds rain Tears upon the Earth below, (I. 14) 
 
 The opening buds revived by Jesus' breath, 
 Upon the air their Subtile Fragrance throw. 
 
 Dies ist die Zeit, wo die Welt sich schmückt mit Bodenstedt 
 Grün, ( vi. 1) 
 
 Wo, wie Mosis Hand, alle Zweige von Knospen 
 glühn, 
 
 Wo die Pflanzen sprossen wie von Jesu Odem 
 belebt 
 
 Und die Wolke weinend sich selbst begräbt! 
 
 Compare Whinfield, 1 16 : — 
 
 Nnv spring-tide showers Us foison on the land, 
 And lively heurts wend forth, a joyous band, 
 
 For ''has breath wakes the dead earth to life, 
 And trees gleam white with flowers, like M/tsa' s hand. 
 
 The Inst line of Whinfield, 109 (18S2), reads : — 
 
 Now spring with boscage green the earth embowers. 
 
 See also Appendix II.
 
 io Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 
 
 FitzGerald Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose, 
 
 ( v > And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one 
 
 l88 9 knows; 
 
 But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine, 
 And many a Garden by the Water blows. 
 
 (V.) Irâm indeed is gone with all its Rose, 5 
 
 1859 And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one 
 
 knows ; 
 But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields, 
 And still a Garden by the Water blows. 
 
 (V.) Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose, 
 
 1868 And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one 
 
 knows ; 
 But still a Ruby gushes from the Vine, 
 And many a Garden by the Water blows.
 
 Rul'âiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 1 1 
 
 See ! from the world what profit have I gained ? Whinfield 
 What fruitage of my life in hand retained ? ('33) 
 
 What use is Jamshed's goblet, once 't is crushed ? 
 What pleasure's torch, when once its light has 
 waned ? 
 
 FitzGerald's note (4): " Irani, planted by King Shaddad, 
 and now sunk somewhere in the Sands of Arabia, (amshyd's 
 Seven-ring'd Cup was typical of the 7 Heavens, 7 Planets, 
 7 Seas &c, and was a Divining Cup.' 1 ' 1 See also Appen- 
 dix III.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khaxyàm. 
 
 FitzGerald .hid David's lips are lockt ; but in divine 
 
 (VI ) High-piping Pehlevi, with " Wine! Wine! Wine! 
 
 1889 "Red Wine!'" — the Nightingale cries to the Rose 
 
 That sallow cheek of hers to' incarnadine. 
 
 (VI.) And David's Lips are lock't ; but in divine 
 
 1859 High-piping Péhlevi 6 with " Wine ! Wine! Wine! 
 
 " Red Wine!'' — the Nightingale cries to the 
 Rose 
 That yellow Cheek 7 of her's to'incarnadine. 
 
 Nicolas Aujourd'hui, le temps est agréable: il ne fait 
 
 ( I53 ) ni chaud, ni froid. Les nuages lavent la poussière 
 
 qui s'est assise sur les roses, et le rossignol semble 
 crier aux fleurs jaunes qu'il faut boire du vin. 
 
 McCarthy To-day, the weather is pleasant, it is neither hot 
 
 (247) nor cold. The dew washes the dust from the face 
 
 of the roses, and the nightingale crieth to the 
 yellow flowers, saying, " Ye must drink wine." 
 
 Whinfield To-day how sweetly breathes the temperate air, 
 ( , 74 ) The rains have newly laved the parched parterre ; 
 
 (94, 1882) And Bulbuls cry in notes of ecstasy, 
 
 " Thou, too, O pallid rose, our wine must share ! " 
 
 Garner The Flowers upon the breeze their fragrance fling, 
 
 ( t 3 ) The Bulbul's notes within the thicket ring, 
 
 Ah come recline beneath the Rose-tree's shade, — 
 The Rose that once has blown must die with 
 Spring.
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 13 
 
 Weder heiss noch kalt ist's heute, ein prächtiges Bodenstedt 
 Wetter: (VIII. 23) 
 
 Frisch vom Regen gewaschen prangen Rosen- 
 kelche und Blätter 
 
 Und die Natchtigall scheint zu den gelben Blumen 
 zu singen : 
 
 Lasset auch Ihr von dem himmlischen Nass Euch 
 belebend durchdringen. 
 
 Wie schön ist die Erde nun wieder überall ! Von Schack 
 
 Die Winde waschen den Staub von den Rosen <284 > 
 
 und Nelken, 
 Und zu den ermatteten spricht die Nachtigall : 
 " Erquickt Euch nun durch meinen Trank, ihr 
 welken ! " 
 
 Yellow being the mourning color in the East, the Night- 
 ingale addresses the flowers of this hue and consoles them for 
 the sadness. 
 
 FitzGerald says (5): " Pehlevi, the old Heroic Sanskrit of 
 Persia. Häfiz also speaks of the Nightingale's Pchlcvi, which 
 did not change with the People's. 
 
 (6) " I am not sure if the fourth line refers to the Red Rose 
 looking sickly, or to the Yellow Rose that ought to be Red ; 
 Red, White, and Yellow Roses all common in Persia. I 
 think that Sotithey in his Common-Place Book, quotes from 
 some Spanish author about the Rose being White till 10 
 o'clock ; • Rosa Perfecta ' at 2; and ' perfecta incarnada ' at 5." 
 
 13
 
 FitzGerald 
 (VII.) 
 
 14 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 
 
 Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring 
 Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling : 
 
 The Bird of Time has but a little way 
 To flutter — and the Bird is on the Wing. 
 
 (VII.) Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring 
 •859 The Winter Garment of Repentance fling: 
 
 The Bird of Time has but a little way 
 To fly — and Lo ! the Bird is on the Wing. 
 
 Nicolas U n rossignol, ivre (d'amour pour la rose) étant 
 
 (79) entré dans le jardin, et voyant les roses et la coupe 
 
 de vin souriantes, vint me dire à l'oreille, dans un 
 langage approprié à la circonstance : Sois sur tes 
 gardes, ami, (et n'oublie pas) qu'on ne rattrape pas 
 la vie qui s'est écoulée. 
 
 McCarthy A love-lorn nightingale, straying into a garden, 
 
 ( l6 7) and beholding the roses smiling, and the cup filled 
 
 with wine, flew to my ear and sang, " Be advised 
 friend, there is no recalling the vanished life." 
 
 Whinfield The Bulbul to the garden winged his way, 
 (81) Viewed lily cups, and roses smiling gay, 
 
 Cried in ecstatic notes, " O live your life, 
 You never will re-live this fleeting day."
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 15 
 
 Eine Nachtigall, die trunken zum Garten flog, Bodenstedt 
 
 Wo ein Rosenkelch über den anderen sich bog, ( x - •»> 
 
 Raunte in's Ohr mir : Erfasse das Glück 
 Des Lebens im Fluge: es kommt nicht zurück. 
 
 Als eine Nachtigall im Gartenhain 
 
 Die Rosen schaute und den Becher Wein, Von Schack 
 
 Sprach sie zu mir: " Versäumst du diese Zeit, ( 2 '4> 
 
 O Freund, so holst du nie sie wieder ein." 
 
 l See also Rubd'iy XCVI.
 
 1 6 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 PitzGerald Whether at Naishâpûr or Babylon, 
 
 (Viil.) Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run, 
 1889 The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop, 
 
 The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one. 
 
 Nicolas 
 (105) 
 
 Puisque la vie s'écoule, qu'importe qu'elle soit 
 douce ou arrière ? Puisque l'âme doit passer par 
 nos lèvres, qu'importe que ce soit à Nichapour 
 ou à Bèlkh ? Bois donc du vin, car après toi et 
 moi, la lune bien longtemps encore passera de son 
 dernier quartier à son premier, et de son premier 
 à son dernier. 
 
 McCarthy Since life flies, what matters it whether it be 
 
 (14S) sweet or bitter? Since our soul must escape 
 through our lips, what matters it whether it be at 
 Naishapur or Babylon ? Drink, then, for after 
 thou and I are dust, the moon will for many days 
 pass from her last to her first quarter, and from 
 her first to her last. 
 
 M. K. Since, bitter or sweet, Life ends so soon, why care, 
 
 Love ? 
 When the soul from the lip takes flight, what 
 matters it Where, Love? 
 Quaff wine ! — yon Moon that waxes and wanes 
 unceasing, 
 When you and I are gone, will still be there, Love !
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. i ; 
 
 When life is spent, what 's Balkh or Nishapore? Whinfield 
 What sweet or bitter, when the cup runs o'er ? (, 34 ) 
 
 Come drink ! full many a moon will wax and 
 wane 
 In times to come, when we are here no more. 
 
 Our Life will end, it flies on foot amain, c.irner 
 
 What boots it whether passed in joy or pain d. 2I ) 
 
 At Balkh or Naishapiir. Come, rill your Cup, 
 We die, — but still the Moon will wax and wane. 
 
 What reck we that our sands are run out in Balkh ^ (6) 
 
 or Babylon, 
 Or bitter be the draught or sweet, so once the 
 
 draught is done. 
 Drink then thy wine with me, for many a silver 
 
 moon 
 Shall wane and wax, for many a silver moon 
 Shall wane and wax when thou and I are gone. 
 
 Da die Tage uns'res Lebens rasch und unaufhalt- "Von Schack 
 
 sam schwinden, (6) 
 
 Da, ob morgen noch wir athmen, Keiner uns 
 
 vermag zu künden, 
 Lass, o du mein Mond, uns froh sein ! Ach der 
 
 Mond da droben wird 
 Oft noch um die Erde kreisen, ohne uns auf ihr 
 
 zu finden ! 
 
 Whinfield, 73 (1S82), reads: — 
 
 When life is spent, who recks of joy or pain ? 
 Or cares in Naishapiir and Balkh lo reign ' 
 
 Come, quaff your wine, for after ice are cone, 
 Moons w 'ill still wane and wax, and wax and wane.
 
 1 8 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say; 
 (IX.) Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday ? 
 
 1S89 ^ tu i t j t i s ß rs[ Sum nier month that brings the 
 
 Rose 
 Shall take Jamshyd and KaikobAd away. 
 
 (Vlll.) And look — a thousand Blossoms with the Day 
 lS 59 Woke — and a thousand scatter'd into Clay : 
 
 And this first Summer Month that brings the 
 Rose 
 Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobâd away. 
 
 Nicolas Regarde comme le zéphyr a fait épanouir les 
 
 (370) roses ! Regarde comme leur éclatante beauté 
 réjouit le rossignol ! Va donc te reposer à 
 l'ombre de ces fleurs, va, car bien souvent elles 
 sont sorties de terre et bien souvent elles y sont 
 rentrées. 
 
 McCarthy Behold in the zephyr the robe of the rose ex- 
 
 (463) panding, the nightingale delighting in the beauty 
 
 of the rose ; sit in the shade of the rose, for many 
 
 times this rose from earth has come, and unto 
 
 earth has gone.
 
 Rubàiyàt of O/na/- Khayyàm. 
 
 l 9 
 
 See how the zephyr tears the scarf of the rose M. K. 
 
 away ; 
 The rose's beauty charms the bulbul's woes away ! 
 Go, sit in the shade of the rose, for every rose 
 That springs from the earth, again to earth soon 
 goes away ! 
 
 Bulbuls, doting on roses, oft complain 
 How froward breezes rend their veils in twain ; 
 Sit we beneath this rose, which many a time 
 Has sunk to earth, and sprung from earth again. 
 
 Whinfield 
 
 (414) 
 
 Sieh, wie der Lenzhauch die Rosen erneut, 
 Sieh, wie ihre Schönheit die Nachtigall freut! 
 Freu' Dich auch, sitz' unter den Rosen nieder 
 So oft sie erblühten, verblühten sie wieder. 
 
 Bodenstedt 
 (VI. 15) 
 
 Sieh, wie der Rosen Knospenkleid zerrissen hat Von Schack 
 der Morgenwind ! (82) 
 
 Horch wie, von ihrem Reiz entzückt, die Nachti- 
 gall ihr Lied beginnt ! 
 Ruh' zwischen diesen Rosen denn, und denk, 
 wie oft dem Erdenschoss 
 
 Sie schön entstiegen und dann neu in ihn hinab- 
 gesunken sind. 
 
 See Appendix IV for further comparisons. 
 
 See Appendix III for further mention of Jamshyd.
 
 20 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald Well, let it take tliem ! What have we to do 
 (X.) With Kaikobâd the Great, or Kaikhosrû ? 
 
 1889 j^ e f £âl and Rustum bluster as they will, 
 
 Or Hâtiin call to Supper — heed not you. 
 
 (IX.) But come with old Khayyâm, and leave the Lot 
 ,s 59 Of Kaikobâd and Kaikhosru forgot : 
 
 Let Rustum lay about him as he will, 8 
 Or Hâtim Tai cry Supper — heed them not. 
 
 (X.) Well, let it take them ! what have we to do 
 
 1868 With Kaikobâd the Great of Kaikhosni ? 
 
 Let Rustum cry " To Battle ! " as he likes, 7 
 Or Hâtim Tai " To Supper! " — heed not you. 
 
 Nicolas Tant que tu auras en ton corps des os, des veines 
 
 (416) et des nerfs, ne pose pas ton pied en dehors des 
 
 limites de ta destinée. Ne cède jamais à ton 
 ennemi, cet ennemi fût-il Rostèm, fils de Zal ; 
 n'accepte rien qui puisse t'obliger envers ton ami, 
 cet ami fût-il Hâtèm-taï. 
 
 McCarthy While still you boast of bones, and veins and 
 
 (390) sinews, abide in the circle of your destiny. Yield 
 
 nothing to your enemy, were he Rustem, son of 
 
 Zal ; be under no bond of obligation to your 
 
 friend, were he Hatim Tai.
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 2 1 
 
 So long as thy frame of flesh and of bone shall be, M. K. 
 Stir not one step outside Fate's hostelry; — 
 
 Bow to no foe — e'en Kustum or Zâl — thy 
 neck, 
 Take from no friend a gift, though Hatim he ! 
 
 While thou dost wear this fleshly livery, Whinfield 
 
 Step not beyond the bounds of destiny; (455) 
 
 Bear up, though very Rustams be thy foes, 
 And crave no boon from friends like Hatim Tai. 
 
 Solang Du Knochen hast, Nerven und Adern im Bodenstedt 
 Leibe. (V. 38) 
 
 Immer standhaft im Haus Deines Schicksals ver- 
 bleibe. 
 
 Weich' keinem Feind, ob es Rüstern selber sei, 
 
 Nimm von keinem Freunde, und war' dieser 
 Hatem-tai. 
 
 FitzGerald, Edition III, 1S79, line 3, reads : — 
 
 Let Zâl and Rustum thunder as they will. 
 In Whinfield, 235 (1SS2) : — 
 Whilst thou dost wear . . . though puissant Rust am be thy 
 
 foe 
 And crave no guerdon e'en from Hatim Tai. 
 
 FitzGerald says (7) : — 
 
 "Rustum, the 'Hercules' of Persia, and Zâl his Father, 
 whose exploits are among the most celebrated in the Shâh- 
 nima. Hatim-Tai, a well-known type of Oriental Generosity." 
 
 See also Appendix III to Rubâ'iy V; Appendix IV to 
 Rubâ'iy IX.
 
 22 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald With me along the strip of Herbage strown 
 (XI.) That just divides the desert from the sown, 
 
 l88 Where name of Slave and Sultan is forgot — 
 
 And Peace to Mahmud on his golden Throne ! 
 
 (X.) With me along some Strip of Herbage strown 
 
 1859 That just divides the desert from the sown, 
 
 Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce 
 known, 
 And pity Sultan Màhmud on his Throne. 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (413) 
 
 McCarthy 
 (449) 
 
 M. K. 
 
 Ce que je demande c'est un flacon de vin en 
 rubis, une œuvre de poésie, un instant de répit 
 dans la vie et la moitié d'un pain. Si avec cela 
 je pouvais, ami, demeurer près de toi, dans quelque 
 lieu en ruine, ce serait un bonheur préférable à 
 celui d'un sultan dans son royaume. 
 
 Give me a flagon of red wine, a book of verses, 
 a loaf of bread and a little idleness. If with such 
 store I might sit by thy dear side in some lonely 
 place, I should deem myself happier than a king 
 in his kingdom. 
 
 A flask of red wine, and a volume of song, to- 
 gether — 
 
 Half a loaf, — just enough the ravage of Want to 
 tether : 
 Such is my wish — then, thou in the waste with 
 me — 
 
 Oh ! sweeter were this than a monarch's crown 
 and feather !
 
 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 Give me a skin of wine, a crust of bread, 
 A pittance bare, a book of verse to read; 
 
 With thee, O love, to share my lowly roof, 
 I would not take the Sultan's realm instead ! 
 
 Whinfield 
 (452) 
 
 A Flask of Wine, a book, a Loaf of Bread, — 
 To every Care and Worldly Sorrow dead, 
 
 I covet not, when thou, oh Love, art near, 
 The Jeweled Crown upon the Sultan's Head. 
 
 Garner 
 (1.8) 
 
 Wein. Brot, ein gutes Buch der Lieder: Bodenstedt 
 
 Liess ich damit selbst unter Trümmern mich nieder, (X. 16) 
 Den Menschen fern, bei Dir allein, 
 Würd' ich glücklicher als ein König sein. 
 
 Eine Flasche roten Weines und ein Büchlein mit Von Schack 
 
 Gedichten (125) 
 
 Und die Hälfte eines Brodes, Andres wünsch' ich 
 
 mir mit nichten ; 
 Dann nur irgend eine Wüste, um mit Dir darin 
 
 zu wohnen, 
 Und beneiden will ich fürder keinen Herrscher 
 
 von Millionen. 
 
 In Whinfield, 234 (1882), read, (1) a flask of wine, (2) a 
 quiet mind, (3) the Sultan'' s crown. 
 
 For further illustration of Ruba'iy XI, see Appendix V.
 
 24 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald 
 
 (XII.) 
 
 1889 
 
 (XI.) 
 
 .-/ Book of Verses underneath the Bough, 
 
 A fug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread — and Thou 
 
 Beside me singing in the Wilderness — 
 Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow ! 
 
 Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, 
 A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse — and Thou 
 
 Beside me singing in the Wilderness — 
 And Wilderness is Paradise enow. 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (82) 
 
 McCarthy 
 
 (177) 
 
 Au printemps j'aime à m'asseoir au bord d'une 
 prairie, avec une idole semblable à une houri et 
 une cruche de vin, s'il y en a, et bien que tout cela 
 soit généralement blâmé, je veux être pire qu'un 
 chien si jamais je songe au paradis. 
 
 In Spring time I love to sit in the meadow with 
 a paramour perfect as a Houri and a goodly jar 
 of wine, and though I may be blamed for this, yet 
 hold me lower than a dog if ever I dream of 
 Paradise. 
 
 M. K 
 
 In the Springtime, biding with one who is houri- 
 
 fair, 
 And a flask of wine, if 't is to be had — somewhere 
 On the tillage's grassy skirt — Alack ! though 
 
 most 
 May think it a sin, I feel that my heaven is there !
 
 Rubâiyât <>J Omar Khayyam. 
 
 2 5 
 
 In the sweet spring a grassy hank I sought 
 And thither wine and a fair Houri brought ; 
 
 And, though the people called me graceless dog, 
 Gave not to Paradise another thought ! 
 
 Whiniield 
 (84) 
 
 Yes, Loved One, when the Laughing Spring 
 
 is blowing, 
 With Thee beside me and the Cup o'ernowing, 
 
 I pass the day upon this Waving Meadow, 
 And dream the while, no thought on Heaven 
 
 bestowin«"'. 
 
 Garner 
 (I. 20) 
 
 Im Frühling, wenn mir ein Ilurisgesicht 
 
 Die Kanne Weines schäumend reicht als 
 Schenke, 
 (So schändlich diess auch däucht gemeinen Wicht) 
 Bin ich ein Hund, wenn ich ans Paradies 
 gedenke. 
 
 Von 
 Hammer- 
 Purgstall 
 
 Im Frühling mag ich gern im Grünen weilen 
 Und Einsamkeit mit einer Freundin teilen 
 Und einem Kruge Wein. Mag man mich schelten: 
 Ich lasse keinen andern Himmel gelten. 
 
 Bodenstedt 
 
 (IX. s.,) 
 
 Gönnt mir, mit dem Liebchen im Gartenrund 
 Zu weilen bei süssem Rebengetränke, 
 
 Und nennt mich schlimmer als einen Hund, 
 Wenn ferner an's Paradies ich denke ! 
 
 Von Schack 
 (151) 
 
 For FitzGerald, XII (1868), and Whinfield, 39 (1882), etc., 
 see Appendix V.
 
 26 
 
 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald Some for the Glories of this World; and some 
 (XIII.) Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come ; 
 !889 Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go, 
 
 Nor heed the rumble of a distant Dram ! 
 
 (XII.) 
 
 is 59 
 
 " How sweet is mortal Sovranty ! " — think some : 
 Others — " How blest the Paradise to come ! " 
 
 Ah, take the Cash in hand and wave the Rest ; 
 Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum ! 9 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (92) 
 
 McCarthy 
 
 (3'4; 
 
 Je ne sais pas du tout si celui qui m'a créé 
 appartenait au paradis délicieux ou à l'enfer 
 détestable. (Mais je sais) qu'une coupe de vin, 
 une charmante idole et une cithare au bord d'une 
 prairie, sont trois choses dont je jouis présente- 
 ment, et que toi tu vis sur la promesse qu'on te 
 fait d'un paradis futur. 
 
 I know not if he who created me belongs to 
 happy Paradise or terrible Hell, but I know that 
 a cup of wine, a fair paramour, and a lute on the 
 borders of a pleasant land, rejoice my heart in this 
 present hour, and that thou livest on the promise 
 of a future Paradise. 
 
 M. K. I know not if He who kneaded my clay to man 
 
 Belong to the host of Heaven or the Hellish 
 clan ; — 
 A life mid the meadows, with Woman, and 
 Music, and Wine, 
 Heaven's cash is to me; — let Heaven's credit thy 
 fancy trepan !
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 27 
 
 Did He who made me fashion me for hell, Whinfield 
 
 Or destine me for heaven ? I can not tell. ( 94 ) 
 
 Yet will I not renounce cup, lute and love, 
 Nor earthly cash for heavenly credit sell. 
 
 They preach how sweet those Houri brides will be 0° 8 ) 
 
 But I say wine is sweeter — taste and see ! 
 
 Hold fast this cash, and let that credit go, 
 And shun the din of empty drums like me. 
 
 With Nature's secrets be thou not perplexed, Garner 
 
 Enjoy this World and do not fear the Next, (m. 6 ) 
 
 Ah, seize this little Breath of Life as Cash, 
 With That to come let not thy Heart be vexed. 
 
 Der sprichst mir von Huris, vom Paradiese, Von 
 Von Edens lusterfüllter goldner Wiese. Hammer- 
 Gel) nimm den Pfennig hin und lass mich geh'n Purgstall 
 Von ferne nur hört sich die Trommel schön. 
 
 Ich weiss nicht, wer zu diesem Sein auf Erden Von Schaek 
 
 mich erschaffen hat, (245) 
 
 Ob es ein guter Himmelsgeist, ob es ein böser 
 
 Dämon that : 
 Das aber weiss ich : heut ercpückt mich guter 
 
 Wein an Leib und Geist, 
 Und erst in weiter Ferne liegt der Himmel, den 
 
 man dir verheisst. 
 
 The last two lines of FitzGcrald's second edition (XV, 
 1 868) read: — 
 
 Ah, take the Cash, and let the Promise go, 
 Nor heed the music of a distant Drum .' 
 He says in his brief note (S) : "A Drum — beaten outside a 
 Palace." 
 See Rubâ'iy LXII and Appendix VI.
 
 28 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald Look to the blowing Rose about us — " I.o, 
 
 (XIV.) 
 1889 
 
 i»59 
 
 " Laughing" she says, " into the world I blow, 
 
 " At once the silken tassel of my P terse 
 " Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw.' 1 '' 
 
 (Xiii.) Look to the Rose that blows about us — " Lo, 
 
 " Laughing,*' she says, " into the World I blow : 
 
 " At once the silken Tassel of my Purse 
 " Tear, and its Treasure 10 on the Garden throw."
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 29 
 
 Quoth rose, " I am the Vusuf flower, I swear, Whinfield 
 
 For in my mouth rich golden gems I bear." 
 
 I said, " Show me another proof." Quoth she, 
 " Behold this blood-stained vesture that I wear." 
 
 The rose said, " I am the Yusuf flower, for my McCarthy 
 mouth is full of gold and jewels." I said, " If (4) 
 
 thou art the Yusuf flower, show me a certain sign 
 thereof." And she made answer, " Perchance 
 that I am garbed in a blood-drenched garment." 
 
 FitzGerald's note (9) : " That is, the Rose's Golden Centre." 
 
 M
 
 30 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald And those who husbanded the Golden grain, 
 
 (XV.) And those who flung it to the winds like Rain, 
 1889 Alike to 710 such aureate Earth are turned 
 
 1859 As, buried of ice, Men want dug up again. 
 
 Nicolas o idole ! avant que le chagrin vienne t'assaillir, 
 
 ( r 56) ordonne de nous servir du vin couleur de rose. 
 
 Tu n'es pas d'or, toi, ô insouciant imbécile ! pour 
 
 croire qu'après t'avoir enfoui dans la terre on t'en 
 
 retirera. 
 
 McCarthy O, beloved, before care seizeth thee, bid them 
 
 ( 2 77> serve us with wine the colour of roses. Thou art 
 
 not made of gold, O thoughtless fool, that thou 
 
 shouldst hope to be dug up after thou art laid in 
 
 the earth. 
 
 M. K. Darling, ere griefs our nightly couch enfold again, 
 
 Bid wine be brought, red sparkling as of old, again ! 
 
 — And thou, weak fool ! think not that thou art 
 
 gold: 
 
 When buried, none will dig thee up from the 
 
 mould again ! 
 
 Whinfield Ere you succumb to shocks of mortal pain, 
 
 (175) The rosy grape-juice from your wine-cup drain. 
 
 You are not gold, that, hidden in the earth, 
 Your friends should care to dig you up again !
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 31 
 
 Yes, bid the Sâki fill the Brimming .Measure, Garner 
 
 And may thy closing days be spent in Pleasure, (L 33> 
 
 For, when thy Dust within the Ground is laid, 
 'T will ne'er be sought as some long buried Trea- 
 
 Eh' Du ein Opfer wirst der Pein des Lebens, 
 O Holde, trink den rosigen Wein des Lebens. 
 Der Thor nur glaubt, dass man wie Gold ihn 
 
 nieder 
 In 's Grab senkt und als Gold herauszieht wieder. 
 
 Wliinfield, 05 (1SS2), reads: — 
 
 Ere you succumb to shocks of mortal pain, 
 Your roses gather, and your winecufs drain ; 
 
 You arc not gold, and once entombed in earth, 
 No one will care to dig you up again. 
 
 Bodenstedt 
 
 (VI. s)
 
 32 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald The Worldly Hope t?ien set their Hearts upon 
 (XVI.) Turns Ashes — or it prospers ; and anon, 
 Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face, 
 Lighting a little hour or two — was gone. 
 
 (Xiv.) The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon 
 Turns Ashes — or it prospers ; and anon, 
 
 Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face 
 Lighting a little Hour or two — is gone.
 
 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyâm. t>2> 
 
 O soul ! lay up all earthly goods in store, Whinfield 
 
 Thy mead with pleasure's flowerets spangle o'er, < 2 -<3) 
 
 And know 't is all as dew, that decks the flowers 
 For one short night, and then is seen no more.
 
 34 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Think, in this batter d Caravanserai 
 
 (XVII.; Whose Portals are alternate Night and Day, 
 1889 How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp 
 
 Abode his destined Hour, and went his way. 
 
 (XVI.) Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai 
 1859 Whose Doorways are alternate Night and Day, 
 
 How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp 
 Abode his Hour or two, and went his way. 
 
 Nicolas Ce vieux caravansérail que l'on nomme le monde, 
 
 (67) ce séjour alternatif de la lumière et des ténèbres, 
 
 n'est qu'un reste de festin de cent potentats comme 
 
 Djèmchid. Ce n'est qu'une tombe servant d'oreiller 
 
 à cent monarques comme Bèhram. 
 
 McCarthy This aged caravanserai which men call the world, 
 
 (140) this alternating home of light and night, is but the 
 
 fag end of a feast of a hundred such lords as 
 
 Jamshid. It is but a tomb serving as a pillow for 
 
 the sleep of a hundred such kings as Bahram. 
 
 M. K. This old inn call'd the world, that man shelters his 
 
 head in, 
 (Pied curtains of Dawn and of Dusk o'er it 
 spreading;) — 
 'Tis the banqueting-hall many Jamshids have 
 quitted, 
 The couch many Bahrains have found their last 
 bed in !
 
 Riibâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 35 
 
 What is the world ? A caravanserai, Whinfield 
 A pied pavilion of night and day ; (7°) 
 
 A feast whereat a thousand Jamsheds sat, ( 34> "882) 
 
 A couch whereon a thousand Bahrains lay. 
 
 This World is nothing but an Inn decayed, Gamer 
 
 A transient Resting Place of Light and Shade, ( VH - 2 > 
 
 A Banquet which a thousand Jamsheds left, a 
 tomb, 
 Wherein a thousand Bahrdm-Gours are laid. 
 
 Dies alte Karawanserai, genannt die Welt, Bodenstedt 
 
 Bald nächtig dunkel, bald vom Tag erhellt, (VIII. 5) 
 
 Ist nur ein Rest von alten Herrlichkeiten, 
 Ein Grab von Königen, hochgerühmt vor Zeiten. 
 
 Dieses alte, morsche Gasthaus, das man auch die Von Schack 
 Erde heisst, ( -* 8) 
 
 Das bald tief in Dunkel nachtet, bald mit hellem 
 Lichte gleisst, 
 
 Ist ein Abfall nur vom Feste, welches hundert 
 Kön'ge gaben, 
 
 Ist ein Grab nur, d'rin zum langen Schlaf sie hin- 
 gestreckt sich haben.
 
 36 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald They say the Lion and the Lizard keep 
 
 (XVIII.) The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank 
 1S89 deep : 
 
 AudBahrdm, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass 
 Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep. 
 
 (XVII.) 
 
 1859 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (69) 
 
 McCarthy 
 (15O 
 
 M. K. 
 
 They say the Lion and the Lizard keep 
 The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank 
 deep : u 
 And Bahrain, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass 
 Stamps o'er his Head, and lie lies fast asleep. 
 
 Ce palais où Bèhram aimait à prendre la coupe 
 dans sa main (est maintenant transformé en une 
 plaine déserte) où la gazelle met bas, où le lion se 
 repose. Vois ce Bèhram cpii, au moyen d'un lacet, 
 prenait les ânes sauvages, vois comme la tombe 
 à son tour a pris ce même Bèhram. 
 
 The palace, where Bahrain loved to troll the 
 bowl, is now the resting-place of stags, the lair of 
 lions. See how this Bahrain who loved to snare 
 the wild ass with a running noose is snared himself 
 in his turn by the tomb. 
 
 Here, where Bahrain oft filled his Chalice high, 
 
 elate, 
 Now, beasts of prey the ruined palace violate ; — 
 Like the wild ass he lassoed, the great Hunter 
 Lies in the noose of Huntsman Death, annihilate.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 37 
 
 Here in this palace, where Bahrain held sway, Whinfield 
 
 The wild roes drop their young, and tigers stray; (72) 
 
 And that great hunter king — -ah ! well-a-day ! (35, 1SS2) 
 Now to the hunter death is fallen a prey. 
 
 Now, here where Bahrain lived in wild carouse, Garner 
 The Lion sleeps, the Deer are wont to brousc, (I. 10) 
 
 Though oft he followed them with bow and Spear, 
 They never will his Final Slumbers rouse. 
 
 Wüst liegt der Palast, 
 
 Wo einst Behram geprasst. 
 Jetzt scheucht von der Stelle 
 
 Der Leu die Gazelle. 
 Wo der König im Jagen 
 
 Wilde Esel erschlagen, 
 Versank er im Sumpfe 
 
 Beim Eselstriumphe. 
 
 Bodenstedt 
 
 (VIII. 6) 
 
 Dieses Schloss, in welchem Bahrain froh den Von Schack 
 
 Becher oft gefüllt, (199) 
 
 Dient Gazellen nun zum Lager, wird von Löwen 
 
 nun durchbrüllt. 
 Der auf Jagd der wilden Esel mit dem Fangstrick 
 
 oft gegangen, 
 O wie lang schon von des Todes Fangstrick ist 
 
 er selbst gefangen ! 
 
 See Appendix VII.
 
 38 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald / sometimes think that never blows so red 
 
 The Rose as where some buried Cœsar bled; 
 
 1889 
 
 That every Hyacinth the Garden wears 
 
 Dropt in her Lap from some once lovely Head. 
 
 (XVlll.) I sometimes think that never blows so red 
 l8 59 The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled; 
 
 That every Hyacinth the Garden wears 
 Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head. 
 
 Whinfield Where'er you see a rose or tulip bed, 
 
 (104) Know that a mighty monarch's blood was shed ; 
 
 And where the violet rears her purple tuft, 
 Be sure a black-moled girl hath laid her head.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 39 
 
 Erblickt ihr eine Rose, prächtig rot, Von Schack 
 
 So denkt : darunter ruht ein mächt'ger König tot; 
 Und seht ihr einen Krokus blüh'n, so glaubt: 
 Ein schönes Weib, nun tot, verlor ihn einst vom 
 Haupt. 
 
 In Whinfield, 58 (1SS2), read, " some mighty monarch," 1 
 " its purple tuft," " some black moled maiden rests her head.''
 
 4° 
 
 Kubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald And this reviving Herb whose tender Green 
 (XX.) Fledges the River-Lip on which we lean — 
 1889 Ah, lean upon it lightly ! for who knows 
 
 From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen ! 
 
 (\ix.) And this delightful Herb whose tender Green 
 1S59 Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean — 
 
 Ah, lean upon it lightly ! for who knows 
 From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen ! 
 
 Nicolas Qu'elles sont belles, ces verdures qui croissent 
 
 (59) aux bords des ruisseaux ! On dirait qu'elles ont 
 
 pris naissance sur les lèvres d'une angélique 
 beauté. Ne pose donc pas sur elles ton pied avec 
 dédain, puisqu'elles proviennent du germe de la 
 poussière d'un visage coloré du teint de la tulipe. 
 
 McCarthy How fair are the green fringes of the living 
 
 (123) stream. Surely they sprang once from the lip of 
 
 some celestial fair. Trample them not with scorn, 
 
 for they spring from the dust of a tulip-tinted face. 
 
 M. K. 
 
 The verdure sweet yon rivulet's bank arraying 
 there, 
 
 "'T is the down on an angel's lip," in homely say- 
 ing, there — 
 O tread not thereon disdainfully ! — it springeth 
 
 From the dust of some tulip-cheek that lies decay- 
 ing there !
 
 Rubàiyât oj Omar Khayyâm. 41 
 
 Yon turf, fringing the margent of tbe stream, Whinfield. 
 
 As down upon a cherub's lip might seem, 
 
 Or growth from dust of buried tulip clacks; 
 Tread not that turf with scorn, or light esteem ! 
 
 The Violets that by this River grow, Garner 
 
 Spring from some Lip here buried long ago : — 0- s) 
 
 And tread thou lightly on this Tender Green, 
 Who sleepeth here so still, thou ne'er wilt know. 
 
 So schön, wie den schönsten Lippen entsprungen Bodenstedt 
 Hält der blumige Rasen den Bach umschlungen. (VI 24) 
 
 Betritt nicht verächtlich dies zarte Grün, 
 Urin vergangene Schönheiten neu erblühn. 
 
 Wie lieblich wieder nun Alles ward ! Von Schack 
 
 Wie zart ist des Rasens duftendes Grün ! (84) 
 
 Komm', lass uns des Frühlings gemessen, 
 Doch tritt auf die Halme nicht zu hart, 
 
 Denn rosig hat einst das Gesicht geblüht, 
 aus dessen Staube sie spriessen. 
 
 Line i in the second edition of FitzGerald (XXV, 1S6S) 
 reads : — 
 
 And this delightful Herb whose living Green. 
 Whinlield, 31 (18S2), is as follows : — 
 Sec how the grass yon river marge doth grace, 
 So springs the down upon a cherub's face, 
 
 Tread not this grass with scorn, perchance it springs 
 From some poor buried beauty's cold embrace. 
 See Appendix VIII.
 
 42 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears 
 (XXI.) To-day of past Regrets and future Fears : 
 lgSg To-morrow ! — Why, To-morrow I may be 
 
 Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years. 
 
 (XX.) Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears 
 1859 To-day of past Regrets and future Fears — 
 
 To-morrow? — Why, To-morrow I may be 
 Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n Thousand Years. 12 
 
 Nicolas O ami ! viens à moi, ne nous soucions pas du 
 
 (269) jour de demain et considérons comme un butin ce 
 
 court instant d'existence. Demain, quand nous 
 aurons abandonné cette vieille résidence (le monde), 
 nous serons les compagnons contemporains de 
 ceux qui l'ont quittée depuis sept mille ans ! 
 
 McCarthy O my friend, come hither, let us forget to-day 
 
 (194) and to-morrow, and steal this one short hour of 
 
 life. When to-morrow we shall have abandoned 
 this old dwelling-place, we shall become the con- 
 temporaries of all those who departed hence for 
 the last seven thousand years. 
 
 M. K. Let not the morrow make thee, friend, down- 
 
 hearted ! 
 Draw profit of the day yet undeparted : 
 
 We '11 join, when we to-morrow leave this man- 
 sion, 
 The band seven thousand years ago that started !
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 43 
 
 O let us not forecast to-morrow's fears, Whinneld 
 
 But count to-day as gain, my brave compeers ! (312) 
 
 To-morrow we shall quit this inn, and march 
 With comrades who have marched seven thousand 
 years. 
 
 Komm, Freund, wir wollen nicht sorgen um Bodenstedt 
 morgen, (VIII. 3S ) 
 
 Wir halten als Beute das Gute von heute geborgen. 
 
 Verlassen wir morgen dann dies alte Gasthaus — 
 die Welt,— 
 
 So werden wir Allen, die vor uns bewohnt dieses 
 Rasthaus, gesellt. 
 
 Freund ! lass jeglichen Gedanken an die Zukunft Von Schack 
 uns begraben ! (30*) 
 
 An der Lust des Augenblickes muss sich der 
 Verständ'ge laben ! 
 Morgen, wenn wir sterben müssen, werden wir 
 Genossen derer, 
 
 Die vor siebentausend Jahren diese Welt ver- 
 lassen haben. 
 
 FitzGerald's note (n) says: — 
 
 "A thousand years to each Planet." 
 
 The first two lines of Whinfield, 167 (1882), read: — 
 Ah, why forecast to-morrow' 1 s hopes and fear si 
 To-day at least is ours, O cavaliers.
 
 44 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald For some we loved, the loveliest and the best 
 (xxii.) 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. 
 
 (XXI.) Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and best 
 l8 59 That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest, 
 
 Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before, 
 And one by one crept silently to Rest. 
 
 Whinfield My comrades all are gone ; Death, deadly foe, 
 ( 2ig ) Has caught them one by one, and trampled low ; 
 
 They shared life's feast, and drank its wine with 
 me, 
 But lost their heads, and dropped a while ago. 
 
 Garner In Earth's Dark Bosom, Myriads of the Best 
 
 ( v 7) That She has known, disheartened in their Quest 
 For Truth, are sleeping, while the Waste of 
 Naught 
 Is thronged with Those to come, and Those at rest.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 45 
 
 O grimm'ges Schicksal ! nichts als nur Verheerung Von Schack 
 Übst du seit Anbeginn und als Zerstörung! ( 3 °°^ 
 
 Und du, o Erde ! wie viel Weise. Grosse 
 Und Edle ruhen schon in deinem Schosse ! 
 
 In the second and third editions of Fitzgerald, the second 
 line reads : — 
 
 That from his Vintage rolling time has pr est. 
 
 l S
 
 4 6 
 
 Rubâiyât of- Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald And we, that now »take merry in the Room 
 (XXlll.) They left, and Summer dresses in new bloom, 
 1889 Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth 
 
 Descend — ourselves to make a Couch — for whom ? 
 
 (XXI r.) And we, that now make merry in the Room 
 1S59 They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom, 
 
 Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth 
 Descend, ourselves to make a Couch — for whom? 
 
 Nicolas Les nuages se répandent dans le ciel et recom- 
 
 (70) mencent à pleurer sur le gazon. Oh ! il n'est plus 
 
 possible de vivre un instant sans vin couleur d'ama- 
 rante. Cette verdure réjouit aujourd'hui notre 
 vue, mais celle qui germera de notre poussière, la 
 vue de qui réjoui ra-t-elle? 
 
 McCarthy The clouds spread over the face of the heavens, 
 
 (156) and rain patters on the sward. How could it be 
 possible to live for a single second without crimson 
 wine ? This green before me delights my eye, but 
 the grass which shall spring from my dust whose 
 eye will delight in ? 
 
 Whinfleld Down fall the tears from skies enwrapt in gloom, 
 (73) Without this drink, the flowers would never bloom ! 
 
 As now these flowerets yield delight to me, 
 So shall my dust yield flowers — God knows for 
 whom.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 47 
 
 This Tufted Mead is sprinkled by the Rain Garner 
 
 With all its Flowers which our Senses chain, — (I- '7 
 
 Ere long the Flowers from our Dust will 
 spring, — 
 Whose sight will they rejoice ? A Question vain. 
 
 Der Regen fällt munter Bodenstedt 
 
 Auf den Rasen herunter: (VIII. 92) 
 
 Wie dem Rasen der Regen, 
 
 Sei der Wein uns zum Segen ! 
 Wer wohl einst sich erfreut 
 
 An dem Grün, wie wir heut ; 
 Das dem Boden entsprungen, 
 
 Der uns selber verschlungen ! 
 
 Frisch nach dem Regen strahlt das Grün auf allen Von Schack 
 
 Rasenplätzen : <5°) 
 
 Wer möchte sich in solcher Zeit am Weingenuss 
 
 nicht letzen ? 
 Heut freu'n wir uns an diesem Grün: doch 
 
 jenes, das dereinst 
 Auf unserm Grabe spriessen wird, wer wird sich 
 
 d'ran ergötzen?
 
 48 Rubàiyài of Ornai- Khayyàm. 
 
 FitzGerald Ah, make the most of what %ue yet may spend, 
 (XXIV.) Before we too into tlie Dust descend; 
 18S9 Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, 
 
 Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and — sans 
 End I 
 
 (xxni.) Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, 
 1S59 Before we too into the Dust descend ; 
 
 Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie, 
 Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and — sans 
 End! 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (34?) 
 
 Cette roue des cieux court après ma mort et la 
 tienne, ami ; elle conspire contre mon âme et la 
 tienne. Viens, viens t'asseoir sur le gazon, car 
 bien peu de temps nous reste encore avant que 
 d'autre gazon germe de ma poussière et de la 
 tienne. 
 
 McCarthy This wheel of heaven seeks my destruction and 
 
 ( 3S S) thine, it plots against my soul and thine. Come, 
 
 seat thyself upon the grass, for in a little while 
 
 fresh grass will spring from this dust of mine and 
 
 thine. 
 
 M. K. The wheel of Heaven thy death and mine is bring- 
 
 ing, friend ! 
 Over our lives the cloud of doom 't is flinging, 
 friend ! 
 Come, sit upon this turf, for little time is left 
 Ere fresher turf shall from our dust be springing, 
 friend !
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 49 
 
 O Love, for ever doth heaven's wheel design Whinfield 
 
 To take away thy precious life, and mine ; (390) 
 
 Sit we upon this turf, 't will not be long 
 Ere turf shall grow upon my dust, and thine ! 
 
 The 'wheel of heaven' in its Fatal Play Garner 
 
 Will soon our Breath of Being steal away, — (ill. 3 ) 
 
 Come rest thee on this bank, for from our dust 
 Will spring the Verdure at no distant day. 
 
 Das Himmelsrad läuft noch, wenn Du und ich Bodenstedt 
 längst geschieden, (VIII. 58) 
 
 Es lässt weder Deine noch meine Seele in Frieden. 
 
 Komm, setz' Dich in's Grün ; nur kurze Zeit wird 
 vergehen, 
 
 Eh anderes Grün wird aus Deinem und meinem 
 Staube erstehen. 
 
 Dieses rollende Rad des Himmels ist zu unser'm Von Schack 
 
 Tod verschworen, ^ j 
 
 Und, sobald's uns eingeholt hat, Freund, sind du 
 
 und ich verloren ! 
 Ruh mit mir denn auf dem Rasen ! Kurze Zeit nur 
 
 wird verfhessen, 
 Ach ! und über unser'm Staube wird ein neuer 
 
 Rasen spriessen ! 
 
 Whinfield, 205 (1S82), reads: — 
 
 The wheel of heaven still holds his set design 
 To take away thy life, O love and mine. 
 
 Sit we on this green turf, 'twill not be long 
 Ere turf will hide my dust along with thine. 
 " M. K." regards Rubâ'iy XXIV as "complementary to the 
 sense of XXII i, with an addition not in the Persian." He 
 derives XXIII from Nicolas, 348. 
 See Appendixes IX and XXX.
 
 5° 
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Alike for those who for Today prepare, 
 (XXV.) And those that after some To-morrow stare, 
 1889 ^4 Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries, 
 
 " Fools ! your Reward is neither Here nor There." 
 
 (xxiv.) Alike for those who for To-day prepare, 
 •859 And those that after a To-morrow stare, 
 
 A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries 
 " Fools ! your Reward is neither Here nor There ! " 
 
 Nicolas Une multitude d'hommes réfléchissent sur les 
 
 (337) croyances, sur les religions ; d'autres sont clans la 
 
 stupéfaction entre le doute et la certitude. Tout à 
 
 A 
 
 coup, celui qui est à l'affût criera : " O ignorants ! 
 la voie que vous cherchez n'est ni là, ni là." 
 
 McCarthy Some meditate of religions and beliefs, some 
 
 (434) sway bewildered betwixt doubt and knowledge. 
 Suddenly the watcher cries, " Fools, your road is 
 not here nor there." 
 
 M. K. Myriad minds at work, of sects and creeds to 
 
 learn, 
 
 The Doubtful from the Sure all puzzled to discern : 
 
 Suddenly from the Dark the crier raised a cry — 
 
 " Not this, nor that, ye fools ! the path that ye 
 
 must turn ! "
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 5 1 
 
 Some look for truth in creeds, and forms, and Whinfield 
 
 rules ; ( " 6 ) 
 
 Some grope for doubts or dogmas in the schools; 
 
 But from behind the veil a voice proclaims, 
 " Your road lies neither here nor there, O fools." 
 
 Viele Menschen grübeln über Glauben und Sitte, Bodenstedt 
 Zwischen Zweifel und Gewissheit stehn viele in (VIII. 53) 
 
 der Mitte. 
 Unversehens ruft Einer aus dem Hinterhalt her: 
 Ihr Thoren, der rechte Weg ist nicht dieser noch 
 
 der! 
 
 Über die Religionen sinnen Viele und die Glau- Von Schack 
 benssekten, ( g ) 
 
 Zwischen Zuversicht und Zweifel schwanken 
 And're fort und fort ; 
 Doch ein Ruf wird einst ertönen: "O ihr 
 Geistesnacht-Bedeckten, 
 Wisst, der wahre Weg zum Heile liegt nicht hier 
 und Hegt nicht dort." 
 
 In Whinfield, 19S (1SS2), rites instead of forms.
 
 5 2 
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss 'd 
 (XXVI.) Of the Two Worlds so wisely — they are thrust 
 lS8g Like foolish Prophets forth j their Words to 
 
 Scorn 
 Are scattered, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust. 
 
 (xxv.) Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd 
 1859 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. 
 
 Nicolas Ceux qui par la science sont la crème de ce 
 
 (, 20 ) monde, qui par l'intelligence parcourent les hau- 
 teurs des cieux, ceux-là aussi, pareils au firma- 
 ment dans leur recherche des connaissances 
 sublimes, ont la tête renversée, prise de vertige et 
 d'éblouissement. 
 
 McCarthy Those who by their learning are the elect of 
 
 (252) the world, who by their intellect climb the heights 
 
 of heaven, those who scale the firmament in their 
 
 search after the things of divine wisdom, lose their 
 
 wits, seized with dizziness and all amazement. 
 
 M. K. The learned, the cream of mankind, who have 
 
 driven 
 Intellect's chariot over the heights of heaven — 
 Void and o'erturned, like that blue sky they 
 trace, 
 Are dazed, when they to measure Thee have 
 striven !
 
 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 53 
 
 They at whose lore the whole world stands amazed, Whinfield 
 Whose high thoughts, like Borâk, to heaven are (147) 
 
 raised, 
 Strive to know Thee in vain, and like heaven's 
 
 wheel 
 Their heads are turning, and their brains are 
 
 dazed. 
 
 Selbst die Leuchten des Wissens dieser Welt, Bodenstedt 
 
 Deren Geist noch Licht zu den Sternen gesellt, (iv. 3) 
 Sind, wie diese, im Verständnis 
 
 Des Göttlichen noch in Verblendnis, 
 Mit schwindelndem Haupt im Drehen, 
 
 Mit schwindelndem Haupt im Sehen, 
 Geblendet von allem Glänze 
 
 Im forschenden Blick auf das Ganze. 
 
 Solchen selbst, auf deren Wissen alle Welt be- Von Schack 
 
 wundernd schaut, (267) 
 
 Deren Geist des höchsten Fluges durch den 
 
 Himmel sich getraut, 
 Ja auch ihnen, wenn der Dinge Urgrund sie 
 
 ergründen wollen, 
 Wird es schwindeln, und sie wissen nicht mehr 
 
 was sie sagen sollen. 
 
 Line two in the second and third editions of FitzGerald 
 reads : — 
 
 Of the T?co Worlds so learnedly, arc thrust. 
 
 In Whinfield, 82 (18S2), in the first line, read wide instead of 
 whole ; and the second line is : — 
 
 Whose thoughts above high heaven' s self are raised. 
 
 Boiak : Muhammad's steed on which he mounted to paradise. 
 See Appendix X.
 
 54 
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald Myself when y ou tig did eagerly frequent 
 (XXVII.) Doctor and Saint, and heard great argument 
 l88 About it and about : but evermore 
 
 Came out by the same door where in I went. 
 
 (XXVII ) Myself when young did eagerly frequent 
 ,8 59 Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument 
 
 About it and about : but evermore 
 Came out by the same Door as in I went. 
 
 Nicolas Semblable à un épervier, je me suis envolé du 
 
 (225) monde des mystères, espérant m'élever vers un 
 monde plus haut ; mais, tombé ici-bas et n'y 
 trouvant personne cligne de partager mes secrètes 
 pensées, je suis ressorti par la porte par laquelle 
 j'étais entré. 
 
 McCarthy I have flown like a sparrow-hawk forth from 
 
 ( 4 o) this world of mysteries, in the hope of reaching a 
 
 higher sphere. But, fallen again to the earth, and 
 finding none worthy of sharing the hidden thoughts 
 of my heart, I have gone forth again by the door 
 through which I came. 
 
 M. K. 
 
 Whinfleld 
 (264) 
 
 Forth, like a hawk, from Mystery's world I fly, 
 Seeking escape to win from the Low to the High : 
 But finding none that more of it knows than I, 
 Out through the door I go that I entered by ! 
 
 I flew here, as a bird from the wild, in aim 
 Up to a higher nest my course to frame ; 
 
 But, finding here no guide who knows the way, 
 Fly out by the same door where through I came.
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 55 
 
 Aus der Welt der Geheimnisse wollt' ich ent- Bodenstedt 
 schweben, (V. iS) 
 
 In eine höhere Welt hofft' ich mich zu erheben, 
 Wie ein Sperber war ich emporgeflogen, 
 
 Doch ward ich zur Erde zurückgezogen, 
 Und da ich hier Niemand gesehen 
 
 Im Stande mich zu verstehen, 
 So bleibt mir von diesem Leidenshorte 
 
 Kein Ausgang als die Eingangspforte. 
 
 Wie ein Falk entflog ich jener Welt der Geister, Von Schack 
 
 um von dort (143) 
 
 Höh're Welten zu erfliegen ; doch an diesen 
 
 nieder'n Ort 
 Sank ich hin, und, da ich fremd mich hier und 
 
 unverstanden sah, 
 Auf dem Weg, den ich gekommen, flieg' ich nun 
 
 von Neuem fort. 
 
 The last line of Edition II of FitzGerald (XXX, 1868) 
 reads : — 
 
 Came out by the same door as in I went. 
 
 The last line of Whinfield, 143 (1SS2), is : — 
 
 Fly out by that same door through which I came. 
 See Appendix XI.
 
 56 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 
 
 FitzGerald With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, 
 
 ^ '' And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow j 
 
 1889 
 
 And this was all the Harvest that I reaped — 
 
 " I came like Water, and like Wind I go" 
 
 (XXViii.) With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow, 
 And with my own hand labour'd it to grow : 
 
 And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd — 
 " I came like Water, and like Wind I go. 
 
 Whinfield I studied with the masters long ago, 
 
 (353) And long ago did master all they know ; 
 
 Hear now the end and issue of it all, 
 From earth I came, and like the wind I go. 
 
 In the second and third edition of FitzGerald, line two reads : 
 
 And with my ozvti hand wrought to make it grow. 
 Von Schack, 183, is translated from the English. 
 In Whinfield, 1S5 (1882), the last two lines read: 
 What is the end and issue of it all? 
 " / came like water and like wind I go."
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 57 
 
 A somewhat analogous thought inspires the 
 following : — 
 
 Jusqu'à quand seras-tu la dupe des couleurs Nicolas 
 et des parfums d'ici-bas ? Quand cesseras-tu tes (132) 
 
 recherches sur le bien et le mal ? Fusses-tu la 
 source de Zèmzèm, fusses-tu même l'eau de la 
 vie que tu ne saurais éviter d'entrer dans le sein de 
 la terre. 
 
 How long will you remain the dupe of this world's McCarthy- 
 delicate dyes and odours? When will you cease ( 2II > 
 from vexing about the good and the bad ? Were 
 you the fountain of youth, were you the very water 
 of life itself, that should not save you from sinking 
 into the bosom of the earth. 
 
 Why toil ye to ensue illusions vain, Whinfield 
 
 And good or evil of the world attain ? ('58) 
 
 Ye rise like Zamzam, or the fount of life, 
 And, like them, in earth's bosom sink again. 
 
 Wie lange wirst Du Dich von Düften und Farben Bodenstedt 
 
 blenden lassen ? (in. 13) 
 
 Wann Dein Forschen über Gutes und Böses enden 
 
 lassen ? 
 Und wärest Du der Lebensquell selber, Du 
 
 müsstest 
 Es doch bei der Rückkehr zum Staube bewenden 
 
 lassen.
 
 58 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzO-erald Into this Universe, and Why not knowing 
 (XXix.) Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing ; 
 1889 And ont of it, as Wind along the Waste, 
 
 I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing. 
 
 (XXix.) Into this Universe, and why not knowing, 
 ^59 Nor whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing: 
 
 And out of it, as Wind along the Waste, 
 I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing. 
 
 Nicolas Mon tour d'existence s'est écoulé en quelques 
 
 (22) jours. Il est passé comme passe le vent du désert. 
 
 Aussi, tant qu'il me restera un souffle de vie, il y 
 
 a deux jours dont je ne m'inquiéterai jamais, c'est 
 
 le jour qui n'est pas venu et celui qui est passé. 
 
 McCarthy My run of life slips by in a few days. It has 
 
 (51) passed me by like the wind of the desert. There- 
 
 fore, so long as one breath of life is left to me, 
 there are two days with which I shall never vex my 
 spirit, the day that has not yet come, and the day 
 that has gone by. 
 
 M. K. This life is but three days' space, and it speeds 
 
 apace, 
 Like wind that sweeps away o'er the desert's face : 
 So long as it lasts, two days ne'er trouble my 
 mind, 
 — The day undawned, and the day that has run its 
 race.
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 59 
 
 My life lasts but a day or two, and fast 
 Sweeps by, like torrent stream or desert blast, 
 
 Hovvbeit, of two days I take no heed, — 
 The day to come, and that already past. 
 
 A few short Fleeting Days, — our Life flies fast, 
 'T is gone, it flies as flies the Desert-blast, 
 But yet there are two days of neither Joy 
 Nor Pain, the Day to come, the Day now past. 
 
 Whinfield 
 
 (26) 
 (12, 1882) 
 
 Garner 
 (I. 24) 
 
 As sweeps the plain the hurrying wind, as flows *" 
 
 the rippling stream, 
 So yesterday from our two lives has passed and 
 
 is a dream ; 
 And while I live, these to my soul shall bring nor 
 
 hope, nor dread, 
 The morrow that may never come, the yesterday 
 
 that fled. 
 
 Schnell, wie der Wüstenwind entflieht mein Leben, Bodenstedt 
 Allein solang mir Odem noch gegeben, (VIII. 90) 
 
 Mach' ich mir um zwei Tage keinen Gram : 
 Den Tag, der schon verging, und den, der noch 
 nicht kam. 
 
 See Appendix XII.
 
 6o 
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald 
 (XXX.) 
 
 18S9 
 (XXX.) 
 
 1859 
 
 (XXXIII.) 
 
 I86S 
 
 Whinfield 
 (110) 
 
 (64, 1882) 
 
 What, without asking, hither hurried Whence ? 
 And, without asking, Whither hurried hence ! 
 
 Oh, many a Cup of this forbidden Wine 
 Must drown the memory of that insolence ! 
 
 What, without asking, hither hurried whence? 
 And, without asking, whither hurried hence! 
 
 Another and another Cup to drown 
 The Memory of this Impertinence! 
 
 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. 
 
 I came not hither of my own free will, 
 And go against my wish, a puppet still ; 
 
 Cupbearer! gird thy loins, and fetch some wine; 
 To purge the world's despite, my goblet fill. 
 
 Von Schack Der Mensch kam auf die Welt und wurde nicht 
 
 (146) g e fr" a g r i 
 
 Ihn fragen wird man nicht, wenn man hinweg ihn 
 
 jagt ; 
 So gab der Himmel ihm die Traube zum 
 
 Geschenke, 
 Damit er, weinberauscht, der Unbill nicht 
 
 gedenke. 
 
 Nicolas D'abord, il m'a donné l'être sans mon assenti- 
 
 (ii 7 ) ment, ce qui fait que ma propre existence me 
 
 jette dans la stupéfaction.* Ensuite, nous quittons 
 
 ce monde à regret et sans y avoir compris le but 
 
 de notre venue, de notre halte, de notre départ. 
 
 * Agitation, surprise, trouble.
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 61 
 
 At the first, life was given unto me without my McCarthy 
 consent, therefore my own existence filled me with ( l88 ) 
 
 astonishment. Finally, with regret we lapse out 
 of this world, understanding neither the purpose of 
 our coming, our stay, nor our departure. 
 
 He brought me hither, and I felt surprise, Whinfield 
 
 From life I gather but a dark surmise, (i 45 ) 
 
 I go against my will; — thus, why I come, 
 Why live, why go, are all dark mysteries. 
 
 Ungefragt kam ich zur Welt, staunend mich Bodenstedt 
 darin zu sehen ; (vm. 3) 
 
 Ungefragt muss ich hinaus, ohne sie noch zu 
 verstehen, 
 
 Ohne nur den Grund zu ahnen meines Kommens 
 oder Scheidens, 
 
 Und — solang ich atmend leide — dieses rätsel- 
 vollen Leidens. 
 
 Ohne meinen Willen hat er mir zuerst das Sein Von Shack 
 
 gegeben (, 2 ) 
 
 Und mit Staunen und Verwundr'ung schau' ich 
 
 an mein eig'nes Leben. 
 L^ns zum Kummer aus der Welt dann werden 
 
 wir hinweggerissen, 
 Ohne uns'res Kommens, uns'res Gehens Zweck 
 
 und Ziel zu wissen. 
 
 See Appendix XII and Rubâ'iy LXXIV. 
 16
 
 62 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Upfront Ear tJî 's Centre through the Seventh Gate 
 (XXXI.) I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, 
 
 And many a Knot unraveVd by the Road; 
 But not the Master-knot of Human Fate. 
 
 (xxxi.) Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate 
 1859 1 rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate, 18 
 
 And many Knots unravel'd by the Road ; 
 But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate.
 
 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 63 
 
 I solved all problems, down from Saturn's wreath Whinfield 
 Unto this lowly sphere of earth beneath, 
 
 And leapt out free from bonds of fraud and lies, 
 Yea, every knot was loosed, save that of death ! 
 
 Compare Bodensteilt III, 11. 
 Jetzt, wo noch mein Aug 1 und Odern auf den Schein der 
 
 Dinge stbsst. 
 Scheint mir, -wenig Leben sriit sei geV es, die ich nicht gelöst ; 
 Doch mich gründlich prüfend find' ich an der Summe des 
 
 Erkennen s : 
 Was mir klar im dunklen Leben wurde, ist nicht wert des 
 
 Nenncns. 
 
 FitzGerald's second edition (XXXIV, 1S6S) is the same as 
 XXXI in subsequent edition, except in the third line, which 
 reads : — 
 
 And many Knots unravcPd by the Road. 
 
 His brief note numbered 13 in the first edition, 12 in those 
 of 1S68, 1S72, and 1S79, reads, "Saturn, Lord of the Seventh 
 Heaven." 
 
 Whinfield's 1SS2 version (161) has the first two lines 
 thus : — 
 I solved all problems down from Saturn's wreath 
 Into the deepest heart of Earth beneath.
 
 64 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald There was the Door to which I found no Key j 
 (XXXII.) There was the Veil through which I might not see : 
 Some little talk awhile of Me and Thee 
 There was — and then no more of Thee and 
 Me. 
 
 (XXXII.) There was a Door to which I found no Key : 
 There was a Veil past which I could not see : 
 Some little Talk awhile of Me and Thee 
 There seemed — and then no more of Thee and 
 Me. 15 
 
 McCarthy The secret of eternity is far from thee and me ; 
 
 the word of the enigma is unknown to thee and 
 me; behind the veil is speech of thee and me; but 
 if the veil be rent, what haps to thee and me ?
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 65 
 
 Nor you nor I can read the etern decree, Whinfield 
 
 To that enigma we can find no key ; (389) 
 
 They talk of you and me behind the veil, 
 But, if that veil be lifted, where are we? 
 
 Line 2 in the second, third, and fourth editions of Fitz- 
 Gerald reads : — 
 
 There was the Veil through which I could not see: 
 
 The fact that in the first edition (1S59) stanza XLI has 
 note number 14 seems to indicate a rearrangement after copy 
 was sent to printer. He explains the stanza in his note (13) : 
 
 " ME-AND-THEE : some dividual Existence or Personality 
 distinct from the Whole." 
 
 Mahmud Shabistari in his Gulshan-i-Ràz says: — 
 
 He from whose eyes God still the path conceals 
 By Key of logic may no door unclose. 
 
 Whinfield, 203 (18S2), reads: — 
 
 Nor you nor I can read our destiny ; 
 To that dark riddle we can find no key, 
 
 They talk of you and me behind the red, 
 But when the veil is lifted, where are we ? 
 
 "Meaning," says Whinfield, "We are part of the 'veil' 
 of phenomena, which hides the Divine Noumenon. If that 
 be swept away what becomes of us ? " 
 
 See Appendix XI; also Appendix XXXII ad finem.
 
 66 
 
 Ru Mirât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Earth could not answer j nor the Seas that mourn 
 (xxx Hi) / ;/ ßowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn ; 
 
 1SS9 j\ior rolling Heaven, with all his Signs reveaVd 
 
 And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn. 
 
 Nicolas Tu me demandais ce que c'est que cette fantas- 
 
 (232) magorie des choses d'ici-bas. Te dire à cet égard 
 
 toute la vérité serait trop long: c'est une image 
 
 fantastique qui sort d'une vaste mer et qui rentre 
 
 ensuite dans cette même vaste mer. 
 
 McCarthy Thou askest me the meaning of this phantas- 
 
 ( 6 3) magoria of things here below. To expound the 
 
 whole of it to thee would be a work without end. 
 It is a fantastic vision, which springs from a 
 boundless ocean and sinks again into the same 
 ocean from which it arose. 
 
 Whinfleld You ask what is this life so frail, so vain, 
 ( 2 7i) 'Tis long to tell, yet I will make it plain ; 
 
 'Tis but a breath blown from those vasty deeps 
 And then blown back to those same deeps again ! 
 
 Garner What may this Moving Panorama be? 
 
 (IX. 3) Ah would that I could tell it all to Thee ; 
 
 'T is Something tossed up by the boundless 
 Vast, 
 That will return to that Same Unknown Sea.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 67 
 
 Du fragst, was diese Welt sei? Wohl! ich will Von Schack 
 dich nicht betrügen, (190) 
 
 Und sage kurz dir, was davon mich dünkt. 
 Sie ist ein Schaumgebilde, das dem grossen Meer 
 entstiegen 
 Und in dies Meer von Neuem untersinkt. 
 
 Blue or purple is the mourning color in the East. Attar, 
 says FitzGerald, lias a story of "the Sea. being askt 'why he 
 - 'lis Waves in Blue?'— And he answers he does so 
 for the Loss of One who will never return." 
 
 Tn a letter to Professor Cowell dated March 12, 1857, 
 FitzGerald wrote: "While I think of it, why is the Sea "(in 
 that Apologue of Attar once quoted by Falconer) supposed to 
 have lost Cod? Did the Persians agree with something I 
 remember in Plato about the Sea, and all in it, being of an 
 Inferior Nature, in spite of Homer's divine Ocean ?" 
 
 Professor Cowell in a note to William Aldis Wright says : 
 '• I well remember shewing it to FitzGerald and reading it 
 with him in his early Persian days at Oxford in i.S^;. I 
 laughed at first at the quaintness; but the idea seized his 
 imagination from the first, and, like Virgil with Ennius' rough 
 jewels, his genius detected gold where 1 had seen only tinsel. 
 He has made two grand lines out of it." 
 
 In searching in Plato for the passage mentioned by 
 FitzGerald, I accidentally turned first to the place in the 
 " Theaitetos," where Sokrates asks if Homer, in singing oi 
 Okeanos and the birth of the gods and Tethys the mother 
 does not mean that all things are the offspring of flux and 
 motion. 1 thought it remotely possible that this was the 
 passage dimly remembered. But Professor W. W. Goodwin 
 of Harvard University, whom 1 ventured to approach with the 
 question, seemed to think not. He was kind enough to write 
 nv: "I could find nothing whatever in Plato to justify 
 ! raid's remark : and I searched also in other places. .-. * ■., 
 in Plutarch, to see if the passage could be quoted. I also 
 in Teller's lude\ to see if any earlier philosopher said 
 anything of the kind. But it was in vain: and I suspect that 
 dear old F. G. dreamed the passage 
 
 In the second edition, 1S6S, numbered XXXVI, the third 
 line reads : — 
 
 Nor ffeav'n, with those eternal Si^ns reveal' d. 
 See Appendix XIII.
 
 68 
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 Pitz Gerald Then of the Thee in Me who works behind 
 (XXXIV.) The Veil, I lifted np my hands to find 
 
 l88 9 A Lamp amid the Darkness ; and I heard, 
 
 As from Without — "The Me within Thee 
 blind ! " 
 
 (XXXlii.) Then to the rolling Heav'n itself I cried, 
 1859 Asking, " What Lamp had Destiny to guide 
 
 " Her little Children stumbling in the Dark?" 
 And — " A blind Understanding! " Heav'n replied. 
 
 (xxxvii.) Then of the Thee in Me who works behind 
 1S68 The Veil of Universe I cried to find 
 
 A Lamp to guide me through the Darkness ; and 
 Something then said — " An Understanding blind." 
 
 Nicolas O toi, à la recherche de qui un monde entier est 
 
 (204) dans le vertige et dans la détresse! le derviche et 
 
 le riche sont également vides de moyens pour 
 parvenir à toi: ton nom est mêlé aux entretiens de 
 tous, mais tous sont sourds ; tu es présent aux 
 yeux de tous, mais tous sont aveugles. 
 
 McCarthy Oh thou, whom all creation seeketh in madness 
 
 (226) and despair, the dervish and the rich man alike 
 
 find no way to reach unto thee. Thy name is in 
 
 the mouth of all men, but all are deaf. Thou art 
 
 present to all eves, but all are blind.
 
 Rubâiyât oj Omar Khayxdm. 69 
 
 The world is baffled in its search for Thee, Whinfield 
 
 Wealth cannot find Thee, no, nor poverty; (247) 
 
 Thou 'rt very near us, but our ears are deaf, 
 Our eyes are blinded that we may not see ! 
 
 In vainly seeking Thee no Rest we find, Garner 
 
 But in and out the Labyrinth we wind. (X. 1) 
 
 Though every Tree and Rock proclaims Thy 
 Name 
 And Work, our Ears are Deaf, our Eyes are blind. 
 
 Die Ganze Welt ist in trostlosem Suchen nach Dir Bodenstedt 
 
 befangen, (I. 12) 
 
 Der Derwisch wie der Nabob ist ohne Mittel zu 
 
 Dir zu gelangen, 
 Deinen Namen nennt Jeder, aber Alle sind 
 
 taub, 
 Du erscheinst jedem Auge, doch sie sind alle 
 
 verhangen. 
 
 Du, nach dem die Welt, die ganze, unaufhaltsam Von Schack 
 
 strebt und ringt, (235) 
 
 Den zu finden so dem Reichsten, wie dem Ärmsten 
 
 nicht gelingt ; 
 Vor den Augen Aller schwebst du, aber Aller sind 
 
 sie blind, 
 Alle nennen deinen Namen, während taub sie 
 
 Alle sind. 
 
 In Whinfield, 136 (1SS2), line 3 ends : are stopped.
 
 7° 
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 PitzGerald Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn 
 (XXXV.) j lean 'd, the Secret of my Life to learn . 
 1889 And Lip to Lip it murmured — " While you 
 
 live, 
 " Drink ! — for, once dead, you never shall return.'''' 
 
 (xxxiv.) Then to this earthen Bowl did I adjourn 
 Its 59 My Lip 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." 
 
 Whinfield I put my lips to the cup, for I did yearn 
 (274) The hidden cause of length of days to learn ; 
 
 He leaned his lip to mine, and whispered low, 
 " Drink ! for, once gone, you never will return." 
 
 Nicolas O toi qui es le résultat des quatre et des sept, 
 
 (389) je te vois bien embarrassé entre ces quatre et ces 
 
 sept. Bois du vin, car, je te l'ai dit plus de quatre 
 
 fois, tu ne reviendras plus; une fois parti, tu es 
 
 bien parti. 
 
 McCarthy Q offspring of the four and five, art puzzled by 
 
 * 3 45> the four and five? Drink deep, for I have told 
 thee time on time, that once departed, thou 
 returnest no more.
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 7 1 
 
 Sprung from the Four, and the Seven ! I see that M. K. 
 
 never 
 The Four and the Seven respond to thy brain's 
 
 endeavour — ■ 
 Drink wine ! for I tell thee, four times o'er and 
 
 more, 
 Return there is none ! — Once gone, thou art gone 
 
 for ever ! 
 
 Child of four elements and sevenfold heaven, Whinfield 
 
 Who fume and sweat because of these eleven, ( 43 ,) 
 
 Drink ! I have told you seventy times and seven, 
 Once gone, nor hell will send you back, nor heaven. 
 
 Mit Euren vier Elementen und sieben Himmeln Bodenstedt 
 geht mir! (VII 44 ) 
 
 Als verlegener Auszug dieser Doppelwelt steht Ihr ! 
 
 Trink Wein, Freund, ich hab's Dir schon oft 
 gesagt : 
 
 Wer geht, kommt nicht wieder; sei's Gott auch 
 geklagt ! 
 
 Line 2 of FitzGerald, XXXVIII (186S), reads : — 
 Ilean'd, the secret Well of Life to learn. 
 Whinfield, 223 (18S2), reads, "slave of four elements," and 
 the second line is : — 
 
 Who aye bemoan the thrall of these eleven. 
 
 Whinfield, 149 (1SS2), reads: — 
 
 I put my lips to the cup, for I did yearn 
 The secret of the future life to learn ; 
 
 And from his lip I heard a whisper drop, 
 u Drink ! for once gone you never will return." 
 One man, two worlds, four elements, five senses, seven 
 planets, eight heavens, nine spheres, ten powers.
 
 7 2 
 
 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald / think the Vessel, that with fugitive 
 (XXXVI.) Articulation answer 'd, once did live, 
 
 l88 9 A mi drink ; and Ah ! the passive Lip 1 kiss 'd, 
 
 How many Kisses might it take — and give ! 
 
 (xxxv.) I think the Vessel, that with fugitive 
 !859 Articulation answer'd, once did live, 
 
 And merry-make ; and the cold Lip I kiss'd 
 How many Kisses might it take — and give ! 
 
 Nicolas Cette cruche a été comme moi une créature 
 
 (28) aimante et malheureuse, elle a soupiré après une 
 
 mèche de cheveux de quelque jeune beauté ; cette 
 
 anse que tu vois attaché à son col était un bras 
 
 amoureusement passé au cou d'une belle. 
 
 McCarthy This jar has been, like me, a creature, loving 
 
 (73) and unhappy; it has sighed for the long tresses of 
 
 some fair young girl ; that handle by which you 
 
 hold it now, was once a loving arm to linger fondly 
 
 round some fair one's neck. 
 
 Whinfield This jug did once, like me, love's sorrows taste, 
 (32) And bonds of beauty's tresses once embraced, 
 
 This handle, which you see upon its side, 
 Has many a time twined round a slender waist!
 
 Rubâ/iyât of Omar Khayyam. 73 
 
 A sighing bit of Breathing Clay, this Vase, Garner 
 
 Once humbly bowed before a Woman's Face, ^ v "- 5) 
 
 This earthen Handle fixed about its Neck, 
 Did oft in Love a Cypress Form embrace. 
 
 Dieser Krug ist, wie ich, unglücklich lebendig Bodenstedt 
 
 gewesen, (HI- 3) 
 
 In schöne Augen und Locken verliebt unverständig 
 gewesen. 
 Dieser Henkel am Halse des Kruges war einst 
 ein Arm, 
 Der in Umhalsung der Schönen unbändig gewesen. 
 
 Ein armer Verliebter ist, wie ich, einst dieser Krug 
 
 von Lehm gewesen, 
 Um Locken einer schönen Maid hat er geseufzt Von Schack 
 
 in Liebesharm; (5) 
 
 Um einen weichen Nacken ist als Arm 
 Geschlungen dieser Henkel ehedem gewesen. 
 
 Line 3 in FitzGerald, XXXIX (1S6S), reads : — 
 
 And drink ; and that impassive Lip I fciss'd. 
 
 In Whinfield, 17 (1SS2), the second and third lines read : — 
 
 In bonds of beauty's tresses chained fast , 
 
 This very handle pendent on its neck.
 
 74 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald for I remember stopping by the way 
 (xxxvii.) -fo watch a Potter thumping his wet Clay : 
 1889 And with its all-obliterated Tongue 
 
 It murmur 'd — ■ " Gently, Brother, gently, pray ! " 
 
 (xxxvi.) For in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day, 
 1859 I watch'd the Potter thumping his wet Clay : 
 
 And with its all obliterated Tongue 
 It murmur'd — " Gently, Brother, gently, pray ! " 
 
 Nicolas Hier, j'ai remarqué au bazar un potier donnant 
 
 < 2II > à outrance des coups de pieds à une terre qu'il 
 
 pétrissait. Cette terre semblait lui dire: Moi 
 
 aussi j'ai été ton semblable ; traite-moi donc avec 
 
 moins de rigueur. 
 
 McCarthy Yesterday I beheld at the bazaar a potter smit- 
 
 (24s) ing with all his force the clay he was kneading. 
 The earth seemed to cry out to him, " I also was 
 such as thou — treat me therefore less harshly." 
 
 Whinfield I saw a busy potter by the way 
 
 (252) Kneading with might and main a lump of clay ; 
 
 (137. 1882) And, lo, the clay cried, " Use me gently, pray, 
 I was a man myself but yesterday ! "
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 75 
 
 I saw a Potter at his Work to-day, Garner 
 
 With rudest Hand he shaped his yielding Clay, (VII. 9) 
 
 " Oh gently Brother, do not treat me thus, 
 I too, was once a Man," I heard it say. 
 
 Einen Töpfer sah ich gestern im Basar, Bodenstedt 
 
 Der ganz wütig im Stampfen von Thonerde war ; ( x - 9) 
 
 Diese schien ihm zu sagen : Freund, mich zu 
 
 erweichen, 
 Behandle mich menschlich, ich war auch Deines- 
 gleichen ! 
 
 Ich schaute gestern einem Töpfer zu, Von 
 
 Der schlug auf frischen Lehm gewaltig zu. 
 
 Da sprach der Lehm mit seinem eignen Wort: 
 Schlag' mich nicht so ; bin ich denn nicht was Du ! 
 
 For Fitzgerald's note and further illustrations of the thought 
 of this Rubâ'iy, see Appendix XIV. 
 
 Purgstall
 
 76 
 
 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald And lias not such a Story from of Old 
 (Xxxvili.) Down Man's successive generations rolFd 
 1889 Of such a clod of saturated Earth 
 
 Cast by the Maker into Human mould ? 
 
 (xxxvili.) Listen — a moment listen ! — Of the same 
 (1S72, 3d ed.) Poor Earth from which that Human Whisper 
 came 
 The luckless Mould in which Mankind was cast 
 They did compose, and call'd him by the name. 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (119) 
 
 Ces potiers qui plongent constamment leurs 
 doigts dans l'argile, cpui emploient tout leur esprit, 
 toute leur intelligence, toutes leurs facultés à la 
 pétrir, jusqu'à quand persisteront-ils à la fouler de 
 leurs pieds, à la souffleter de leurs mains? À quoi 
 pensent-ils donc ? C'est cependant de la terre de 
 corps humains qu'ils traitent ainsi. 
 
 McCarthy The potters who without cease plunge their 
 
 (270) hands in the clay, who give all their mind, all their 
 
 skill, to form it, how long will they continue to 
 trample it under foot, to smite it with their hands ? 
 What then are their thoughts ? Do they not con- 
 sider that it is the mould of mankind they treat 
 thus ? 
 
 Wninfield A potter at his work I chanced to see, 
 
 (493) founding some earth and shreds of pottery ; 
 
 I looked with eyes of insight, and methought 
 ' T was Adam's dust with which he made so free
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 77 
 
 The Potter deftly shapes his turning Clay, Garner 
 
 And knead and mould it with what Skill he may ; (VII. 7) 
 
 He little thinks it once of Human kind, — 
 The Earth he mangles in his Humor gay. 
 
 Diese Töpfer, die mit Füssen und Händen Bodenstedt 
 
 Die Thonmasse treten, kneten und wenden, (VIII. 7) 
 
 Ihren ganzen Witz und Verstand erschöpfen 
 
 Zur Vorbereitung von Krügen und Töpfen : 
 Sie selber scheinen nicht klar zu sehen, 
 
 Was sie da schlagen, stampfen und drehen, 
 Sonst waren sie selbst darüber betreten, 
 
 Dass sie Staub von Menschengebeinen kneten. 
 
 Ihr Töpfer, die emsig den Thon ihr knetet, Von Schack 
 
 Mit Händen ihn klopft, mit Füssen ihn tretet, (4) 
 
 Bedenkt doch : was ihr also misshandelt, 
 Sind Menschenleiber, zu Erde verwandelt ! 
 
 In the first draught of Edition III, FitzGerald wrote the 
 first line : — 
 
 For, in your ear a moment — of the same. 
 
 In XLI, Edition II, line 1 reads : — 
 
 For has not such a Story from of OU. 
 
 17
 
 78 
 
 Rubaiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald And not a drop that from our Cups we throw 
 (XXXIX.) f 0l - Earth to drink of but may steal below 
 1889 t quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye 
 
 There hidden — far beneath, and long ago. 
 
 (XLll.) And not a drop that from our Cups we throw 
 1868 On the parent herbage but may steal below 
 
 To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye 
 There hidden — far beneath, and long ago. 
 
 Nicolas Chaque gorgée de vin que réchanson verse dans 
 
 (188) la coupe vient éteindre dans tes yeux brûlants le 
 
 feu de tes chagrins. Ne dirait-on pas, ô grand 
 
 Dieu! que le vin est un élixir qui chasse de ton 
 
 cœur cent douleurs qui l'oppressaient? 
 
 McCarthy Each drop of wine which the cup-bearer pours 
 
 (■7°) into the cup will quench the fire of grief in thy 
 
 burning eyes. Is it not said, O great God, that 
 
 wine is an elixir which drives away all the sorrows 
 
 that weigh down the heart? 
 
 Whinfield The showers of grape-juice, which cupbearers 
 (203) pour, 
 
 (no, 1882) Quench fires of grief in many a sad heart's core; 
 Praise be to Allah, who hath sent this balm 
 To heal sore hearts, and spirits' health restore.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 79 
 
 Jedes Glas Wein, das Du trinkst, wird löschend Bodenstedt 
 saugen <- lx - 8 3> 
 
 Am Feuer des Schmerzes in deinen Augen. 
 
 Ist der Wein nicht ein Mittel, das Wunder thut 
 
 Und, selbst glühend, löscht Anderer Schmer- 
 zensglut ? 
 
 See Appendix XV.
 
 8o 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald As then the Tulip for her morning sup 
 (XL.) Of Heavenly Vintage from the soil looks up, 
 1889 Do you devoutly do the like, till Heav'n 
 
 To Earth invert you — like an empty Cup. 
 
 (XLiii.) As then the Tulip for her wonted sup 
 1868 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. 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (40) 
 
 Imite la tulipe qui fleurit au noorouz ; prends 
 comme elle une coupe dans ta main, et, si l'occa- 
 sion se présente, bois, bois du vin avec bonheur, 
 en compagnie d'une jeune beauté aux joues colorées 
 du teint de cette fleur, car cette roue bleue, comme 
 un coup de vent, peut tout à coup venir te 
 renverser. 
 
 McCarthy Copy the tulip, that flames with the new year; 
 
 (102) take, like her, the cup in your hand, and drink at 
 
 all advantage your wine with a light heart, in com- 
 pany with a youthful beauty with tulip cheeks. 
 For yon blue wheel may like a whirlwind at any 
 moment dash you down.
 
 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyam. Si 
 
 Like tulips in the Spring your cups lift up, Whinfield 
 
 And, with a tulip-cheeked companion, sup (44) 
 
 With joy your wine, or e'er this azure wheel 
 With some unlooked for blast upset your cup. 
 
 Nimm Dir ein Beispiel an der Tulpe, welche Bodenstedt 
 
 Des Himmels Gaben zeigt im blühenden Kelche. ( 1X - 48) 
 
 Halt hoch den Kelch und küsse Tulpenwangen, 
 
 Noorouz, the Persian New Year, beginning at the equinox, 
 March 21. It is spelled by FitzGerald Naw Rooz, but in 
 the edition contained in FitzGerald's Life and Letters, Now 
 Rooz. 
 
 In the first draught of Edition III, line 2 reads : — 
 
 Of Wine from Hcav'n her little Tass lifts up. 
 In the third edition (1S72) there is no dash in the last line.
 
 82 Rubâiyât of Omar Khâyyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Perplext no more with Hitman or Divine, 
 (XLI.) To-morrow's tangle to the winds resign, 
 1889 And lose your fingers in the tresses of 
 
 The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine. 
 
 (LV.) oh, plagued no more with Human or Divine 
 1868 To-morrow's tangle to itself resign, 
 
 And lose your fingers in the tresses of 
 The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine. 
 
 Nicolas 
 (294) 
 
 Voici l'aurore, viens, et, la coupe pleine de vin 
 rose en main, respirons un instant. Quant à 
 l'honneur, à la réputation, ce crystal fragile, 
 brisons-le contre la pierre. Renonçons à nos désirs 
 insatiables, bornons-nous à jouir de l'attouchement 
 des longues chevelures des belles et du son 
 harmonieux de la harpe. 
 
 McCarthy Behold the dawn arises. Let us rejoice in the 
 
 (283) present moment with a cup of crimson wine in our 
 
 hand. As for honour and fame, let that fragile 
 crystal be dashed to pieces against the Earth. 
 
 Whinfield 'Tis dawn ! my heart with wine I will recruit, 
 (332) And dash to bits the glass of good repute ; 
 My long-extending hopes I will renounce, 
 And grasp long tresses, and the charming lute.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 83 
 
 Schon atmet der Morgen, begriissen wir froh ihn, Bodenstedt 
 
 beim Weine (IX - 8S) 
 
 Und werfen des Leumunds zerbrechliches Glas 
 
 auf die Steine. 
 Entsagen wir leicht allen schwer zu erreichenden 
 
 Zielen, 
 Um in üppigen Locken beim Klange der Harfe 
 
 zu spielen. 
 
 Lasst trinken uns beim Morgenrot ! Sagt an, was Von Schack 
 kann es uns kümmern, ^ 
 
 Wenn Ehre und Ruf, dies vergängliche Glas, zu 
 Scherben sich wandeln und Trümmern ? 
 
 Nichts wünschen lasst auf Erden uns mehr, nein 
 mit den lieblichen Tönen 
 
 Der Harfe wollen zufrieden wir sein und den wall- 
 enden Locken der Schönen. 
 
 See Appendix XVI.
 
 8 4 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Ajidifthe Wine you drink, the Lip yon press, 
 (XLil.) End in what All begins and ends in — Yesj 
 1889 Think then you are To-day what Yesterday 
 
 You were — To-morrowj/ö» shall not be less. 
 
 (XLVll.) And if the Wine you drink, the Lip you press, 
 1859 End in the Nothing all Things end in — Yes — 
 
 Then fancy while Thou art, Thou art but what 
 Thou shalt be — Nothing: — Thou shalt not be less. 
 
 (XLV.) 
 
 1868 
 
 Nicolas 
 (49) 
 
 And if the Cup you drink, the Lip you press, 
 End in what All begins and ends in — Yes ; 
 
 Imagine then you are what heretofore 
 You were — hereafter you shall not be less. 
 
 Si le cœur humain avait une connaissance des 
 secrets de la vie, il connaîtrait également, à 
 l'article de la mort, les secrets de Dieu. Si au- 
 jourd'hui que tu es avec toi-même tu ne sais rien, 
 que sauras-tu demain quand tu seras sorti de ce 
 toi-même ? 
 
 If the human heart could know the secrets of 
 life, it would know too, knowing death, the secrets 
 of God. If to-day, when you are with yourself, 
 you know nothing, what shall you know to-morrow, 
 when you have passed from yourself? 
 
 Whinfield If the heart knew life's secrets here below, 
 
 (52) At death 't would know God's secret too, 1 trow ; 
 
 But, if you know naught here, while still your- 
 self, 
 To-morrow, stripped of self, what can you know ? 
 
 McCarthy 
 (69)
 
 Rubâiyâl of Omar Khayyam. 85 
 
 Durchschaute das Herz das Geheimniss des Bodenstedt 
 
 Lebens, (iv. 2) 
 
 So erforscht' es den Tod und auch Gott nicht 
 
 vergebens. 
 Kannst Du heute, noch ganz bei Dir selbst, 
 
 nichts gewahren, 
 Was wirst Du morgen, wenn ganz Dir entfremdet, 
 
 erfahren ? 
 
 Begriffe dieses Leben nur von Grund aus unser Von Schack 
 Geist, (a3) 
 
 Wohl würd' er die Geheimnisse des Todes auch 
 erkunden ; 
 Doch wenn du heute, da du noch bei Sinnen bist, 
 nichts weisst, 
 Was wirst du morgen wissen, wenn die Sinne dir 
 geschwunden ? 
 
 In the first draught of Edition III the first line reads : — 
 
 And if the Cup, andifthe Lip yon press. 
 Whinfield, 28 (1882), reads, line 1, earth'' s secrets; line 2, 
 heaven'' s secrets. 
 Compare Von Schack, 105 : — 
 
 Wenn dir das Haupt von Wein benebelt ist, sei froh! 
 Wenn eine Schöne dir die Lippen kits st, sei froh .' 
 
 Der Erdendinge Ziel und Endpunkt ist das Nichts, 
 Drum denk' 1 an dieses Nichts, und, weil du bist, sei froh ! 
 See Rubä'iy LUI and Appendixes XI and XVIII.
 
 86 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald So when that Angel of the darker Drink 
 At last shall find you by the river-brink, 
 
 l88 9 
 
 And, offering his Cup, invite your Soul 
 Forth to your Lips to quaff — you shall not 
 shrink. 
 
 (XLVlil.) While the Rose blows along the River Brink, 
 1859 With old Khayyam the Ruby Vintage drink: 
 
 And when the Angel with his darker Draught 
 Draws up to Thee — take that, and do not shrink. 
 
 (XLVI.) So when at last the Angel of the drink 16 
 Of Darkness finds you by the river-brink, 
 
 And, proffering his Cup, invites your Soul 
 Forth to your Lips to quaff it — do not shrink.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 87 
 
 Deep in the rondure of the heavenly blue, Whinfield 
 
 There is a cup, concealed from mortals' view, 
 
 Which all must drink in turn ; O sigh not then, 
 But drink it boldly, when it comes to you ! 
 
 In the first draught of Edition III the reading of 186S was 
 followed, except that " proffering " was changed to " offering : " 
 but in Edition III the stanza assumed its final form. In Edi- 
 tion IV, instead of " that Angel," read " the Angel." 
 
 FitzGerald says in his note (16) : — 
 
 " According to one beautiful Oriental Legend, Azrael accom- 
 plishes his mission by holding to the nostril an Apple from 
 the Tree of Life. 
 
 " This, and the two following Stanzas, would have been with- 
 drawn, as somewhat de trop, from the Text, but for advice 
 which I least like to disregard." 
 
 The first three lines of Whinfield, 139 (1SS2), read : — 
 Deep in the rondure of the empyreal blue 
 There lies a cup hid from all mortal view, 
 
 Which comes to all in turn; oh! sigh not then.
 
 88 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald 
 
 (XLIV.) 
 1S89 
 
 Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside, 
 A/ni naked on the Air of Heaven ride, 
 
 Were 1 1 not a Shame — ivere^t nota Shame for him 
 In this clay carcase crippled to abide ? 
 
 From Preface of Oh, if my soul can fling his Dust aside, 
 Edition i. And naked on the Air of Heaven ride, 
 
 Is 't not a Shame, is 't not a Shame for Him 
 So long in this Clay Suburb to abide! 
 
 Whinfield O soul ! could you but doff this flesh and bone, 
 ( 43 6) You 'd soar a sprite about the heavenly throne ; 
 
 Had you no shame to leave your starry home, 
 And dwell an alien on this earthy zone ? 
 
 Garner Oh that the soul might leave its Earthen Home 
 
 (V. n) And wing its Flight through Heaven's Mighty 
 Dome, 
 What Shame, what Shame to feel itself confined 
 Within a tenement of Basest Loam. 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (17O 
 
 McCarthy 
 (268) 
 
 The same thought recurs : — 
 
 De temps à autre mon cœur se trouve à l'étroit dans 
 sa cage. Il est honteux d'être mêlé avec l'eau et la 
 boue. J'ai bien songé à détruire cette prison, mais 
 mon pied aurait alors rencontré une pierre en glissant 
 sur l'étrier du chèr'e (loi du Koran). 
 
 From time to time my heart seems cabined in its cage. 
 It is a disgrace to be thus blended of water and of earth. 
 I dreamed of breaking down this prison-house, but then 
 my foot would slip on the stone of the law of the Koran.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 89 
 
 Oft doth my soul her prisoned state bemoan, Whinfield 
 
 Her earth-born annate she would fain disown, (,87) 
 
 And quit, did not the stirrup of the law- 
 Upbear her foot from dashing on the stone. 
 
 Zuweilen kommt mein stolzer Geist mit dem Körper in Bodenstedt 
 Zerwürfnis, (VIII. 28) 
 
 Er schämt sich der Gemeinsamkeit mit niedrigem 
 Bedürfnis. 
 
 Ich habe öfter schon gedacht zu sprengen diesen Kerker, 
 
 Allein der Selbsterhaltung Pflicht erwies sich immer 
 stärker. 
 
 Oft fühlt mein Herz mit Kummer sich von diesem Von Schack 
 
 Käfig eingeengt ( 79 ) 
 
 Und sieht sich voll Beschämung hier dem niedern 
 
 Erdenstaub vermengt ; 
 Uen Käfig zu verbrechen dann wohl wandelt mich 
 
 Verlangen an, 
 Allein verpönt ist solche That, ich weiss, dem frommen 
 
 Muselmann. 
 
 In FitzGerald, Editions III and IV (1872, 1879), line 
 3 reads : — 
 
 Wer V not a Shame — wer' I not a Shame for him. 
 
 The last two lines of Editiun II differ from those in the 
 Preface of Edition I only in the matter of capitalization : — 
 /s't not a shame — is't not a shame for him 
 So long in this Clay suburb to remain. 
 
 The last line of Whinfield, 218 (18S2), reads : — 
 And drop to earth like some poor downcast stone.
 
 9 o 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 Fitz Gerald 'Tis but a Tent where takes his one day's rest 
 (XLV.) A Sultan to the realm of Death addrest ; 
 QQ The Sultan rises, and the dark Ferrâsh 
 
 i sog 
 
 Strikes, and prepares it for another Guest. 
 
 From Preface of Or is that but a Tent, where rests anon 
 Edition I. A Sultan to his Kingdom passing on, 
 
 And which the swarthy Chamberlain shall strike 
 Then when the Sultan rises to be gone? 
 
 Nicolas O Khèyam ! ton corps ressemble absolument à 
 
 (80) une tente : l'âme en est le sultan, et sa dernière 
 
 demeure est le néant. Quand le sultan est sorti de 
 
 sa tente, les fèrrachs du trépas viennent la détruire 
 
 pour la dresser à une autre étape. 
 
 McCarthy Khayyam, your body is like unto a tent, the soul 
 
 (169) thereof is the sultan, and his last home is nothing- 
 
 ness. When the sultan quits his pavilion, the 
 fatal Ferrash strikes it, to set it up at another 
 stage. 
 
 M. K. Thy body's a tent, where the Soul, like a King in 
 
 quest 
 Of the goal of Nought, is a momentary guest ; — 
 
 He arises; Death's famish uproots the tent, 
 And the King moves on to another stage to rest. 
 
 Whinfield Thy body is a tent, where harbourage 
 (82) The Sultan spirit takes for one brief age ; 
 
 When he departs, comes the tent-pitcher death, 
 Strikes it, and onward moves, another stage.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 91 
 
 Khayyam, your body is a Tent, your Soul, Garner 
 
 A Sultan, destined to an Unknown Goal ; (XI. 8) 
 
 The dread Ferrâsh of Doom destroys the Tent, 
 The Moment that the Sultan's Summons toll. 
 
 O Chajjam, Dein Körper gleicht einem Zelt, Bodenstedt 
 
 Dem Geist, als König, zur Wohnung bestellt. (VIII.94) 
 
 Zieht der König aus, so wird's abgetragen 
 Und am andern Orte neu aufgeschlagen. 
 
 Ganz vergleichbar ist dein Leib, o Chijam, einem Von Schack 
 
 Fürstenzelt ; (59) 
 
 In dem Leib wohnt deine Seele, die nachher dem 
 
 Tod verfällt ; 
 Wenn der Fürst das Zelt verlassen, abgebrochen 
 
 wird's alsbald ; 
 Neu errichtet dann für neue Wohner dient's als 
 
 Aufenthalt. 
 
 In LXX, Edition II, 1S6S, of FitzGerald, line 1 reads: — 
 
 But that is but a tent wherein may rest. 
 In Edition III, 1S72, the word Sultan has no accent. 
 Whinfield, 37 (1SS2), reads : — 
 
 This body is a tent, which for a space 
 
 Doth the pure soul with kingly presence grace, 
 
 When he departs, comes the tent-pitcher, death, 
 Strikes it, and moves to a new halting-place. 
 
 Mr. John Leslie Garner kindly gives the following prose 
 translation to show how far the idea of evolution was from the 
 mind of the twelfth century poet : — 
 
 Khayyam .' thy body resembles a tent truly ; the Soul a 
 sultan is ; his resting-place is in naught ; the fcrrash of 
 doom, because of another resting place (for the sultan) 
 destroys (removes or overturns) the tent when the sultan has 
 risen . 
 
 The ferrâsh is a body-servant.
 
 Q2 
 
 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald 
 (XLVI.) 
 
 (XLvir.) 
 1868 
 
 Nicolas 
 (137) 
 
 McCarthy 
 
 (235) 
 
 Ana fear not lest Existetice closing your 
 Account, and mine, should know the like no more j 
 
 The Eternal Sâki from that Bowl has pour 'd 
 Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour. 
 
 And fear not lest Existence closing your 
 Account, should lose, or know the type no more 
 
 The Eternal Sâki from that Bowl has pour'd 
 Millions of Bubbles like us, and will pour. 
 
 O Khèyam ! bien que la roue des cieux ait, en 
 dressant sa tente, fermé la porte aux discussions, 
 (il est évident cependant) que l'échanson de 
 l'éternité (Dieu) a produit, sous forme de globules 
 de vin, dans la coupe de la création, mille autres 
 Khèyam semblables à toi. 
 
 O, Khayyam, although indeed the wheel of 
 heaven, in setting its tent, has closed the door to 
 discussions, nevertheless the eternal Cup-bearer 
 has formed in the cup of creation a thousand other 
 Khayyams like unto thee. 
 
 Whinfield What though the sky with its blue canopy 
 (i6i) Doth close us in so that we can not see, 
 
 In the etern Cupbearer's wine, methinks, 
 There float a myriad bubbles like to me. 
 
 Garner 
 
 (VI. 10) 
 
 Fair Heaven's Tent was long since raised, 't was 
 
 Then 
 That Nature's Ways were hid from Human Ken, 
 
 Life's Cup the Everlasting Sâki filled 
 With Millions of these Bubbles, called Men.
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 93 
 
 O Chajjam, obgleich das Himmelszelt Bodenstedt 
 
 Geheimnissvoll umschliesst die Welt, (vin. ,3) 
 
 So glaub' ich doch, es hat in der Zeit 
 
 Der Schenke des Weins der Ewigkeit 
 Geschaffen tausend Deinesgleichen 
 
 Im Schöpfungskelch, dem wunderreichen, 
 Die munter im Weine steigen zum Lichte 
 
 Und als Bläschen sich zeigen unserm Gesichte. 
 
 Chijam ! wie durch einen Vorhang ist das Weltall Von Schack 
 dir verschlossen, ( j 
 
 Aber Eins erkennst du, deckt auch Dunkel sonst 
 dein Auge zu : 
 In der Schöpfung grossem Becher, den der Ew'ge 
 vollgegossen, 
 Eine der Millionen Blasen, die drin schwimmen, 
 nur bist du. 
 
 In the third edition of FitzGerald (1S72) the word Sdki 
 has no accent on the final vowel. 
 
 Whinfield, 90 (1882), has in line 1, u his blue canopy,' 1 '' and 
 the fourth hue reads : — 
 
 There float some thousand bubbles such as we. 
 
 See Appendix XVIII. 
 
 18
 
 94 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald When You and I behind the Veil are past, 
 
 (XLVll.) oil, but the long, long while the World shall last, 
 1889 Which of our Cotning and Departure heeds 
 
 As the Sea'' s self should heed a pebble-cast. 
 
 (XLVll.) When you and I behind the Veil are past, 
 1872 Oh but the long long while the World shall last 
 
 Which of our Coming and Departure heeds 
 As the Sev'n Seas should heed a pebble-cast. 
 
 Nicolas Oh ! que de temps où nous ne serons plus et où 
 
 (123) le monde sera encore ! Il ne restera de nous ni 
 
 renommée, ni trace. Le monde n'était pas incom- 
 plet avant que nous y vinssions ; il n'y sera rien 
 changé non plus quand nous en serons partis. 
 
 McCarthy Alas ! how long the time will be when we are no 
 
 (210) longer in this world, and the world will still exist. 
 
 There will remain of us neither fame, nor trace. 
 The world was not imperfect before we came into 
 it — it will be in no wise changed when we are 
 departed hence. 
 
 Whinfield The world will last long after Khayyam's fame 
 
 (15°) Has passed away, yea, and his very name ; 
 
 (83, 1882) Aforetime we were not, and none did heed. 
 
 When we are dead and gone, 'twill be the same.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 95 
 
 Die Welt wird noch lange sich drehn, wenn wir Bodenstedt 
 verschwunden daraus, (Vin. 9) 
 
 Und Keine Spur wird sein zu sehn, dass wir 
 verschwunden daraus : 
 Der Welt fehlte nichts, eh' wir kamen zur Welt, 
 
 Und es wird kein Mangel entstehn wenn wir 
 verschwunden daraus. 
 
 O welche lange, lange Zeit nach uns noch wird die Von Schack 
 
 Welt besteh'n ! U« 6 ) 
 
 Im Wind wird jede Spur von uns, wird unser 
 
 Name selbst verweh'n, 
 Vor unserer Geburt behalf die Welt ganz gut 
 
 sich ohne uns, 
 Und keine Lücke wird entsteh'n, wenn wieder wir 
 
 von dannen geh'n. 
 
 In FitzGerald's second edition (1S6S) the last line reads: 
 As muck as Ocean of a pcbbie-cast.
 
 9 6 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald 
 (XLVIII.) 
 1889 
 
 A Momenfs Halt — a momentary taste 
 Of Being from the Well amid the Waste — 
 
 And Lo ! — the phantom Caravan has reached 
 The Nothing it set out from — Oh, make haste ! 
 
 (XXXVill.) One Moment in Annihilation's Waste, 
 
 1859 One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste — 
 
 The Stars are setting and the Caravan 
 Starts for the Dawn of Nothing 16 — Oh, make 
 haste ! 
 
 (XLix.) One Moment in Annihilation's Waste, 
 1S6S One Moment, of the Well of Life to taste — 
 
 The Stars are setting and the Caravan 17 
 Draws to the Dawn of Nothing — Oh make 
 haste! 
 
 Nicolas Cette caravane de vie passe d'une manière bien 
 
 (106) étrange ! Sois sur tes gardes, ami, car c'est le 
 temps de la joie qui s'échappe ainsi ! Ne t'inquiète 
 donc pas du chagrin qui demain attend nos amis, 
 et apporte-moi vite la coupe, car vois comme la 
 nuit s'écoule ! 
 
 McCarthy This caravan of life passeth in a strange manner 
 
 (^5) — Beware, oh, friend, for it is the time of thy plea- 
 
 sure which tleeth from thee thus. Trouble not 
 thyself, therefore, for the grief which awaiteth our 
 friends on the morrow, for behold how the night 
 passeth away.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 97 
 
 Life's caravan is hastening on its way ; Whinfield 
 
 Brood not on troubles of the coming day, (136) 
 
 But fill the wine-cup, ere sweet night be gone, 
 And snatch a pleasant moment, while you may. 
 
 Life's Caravan unheeded steals away, Garner 
 
 And with it passes all our Pleasure, nay, (V. 3) 
 
 Fear not the Pain the Future has in Store, — 
 But drink, upon us steals the Twilight gray. 
 
 Fill high the cup though ache the weary brow ■ #(22) 
 
 Fill with the wine that doth with life endow, 
 For life is but a tale by watch-fire told. 
 Haste thee ! the fire burns low — the night grows 
 old. 
 
 Diese Lebenskarawane ist ein seltsamer Zug, Bodenstedt 
 
 Darum hasche die flüchtige Freude im Flug ! (ix. 66) 
 
 Mach' Dir um künftigen Gram keine Sorgen, 
 Fülle das Glas, bald naht wieder der Morgen! 
 
 O wie schnellen Zugs von dannen zieht die Von Schack 
 
 Lebenskarawane ! (276) 
 
 Schneller flieht die Zeit der Freude, als ich's 
 
 glaube, als ich 's ahne ; 
 Drum des Grams nicht will ich denken, welcher 
 
 morgen auf uns harrt ; 
 Her den Wein! die Nacht entflieht schon; freu'n 
 
 wir uns der Gegenwart. 
 
 In FitzGerald's first draught of Edition III. the third line 
 reads : — 
 
 Before the starting Caravan has reach' d. 
 
 !n the fourth edition the last word is spelt reacht.
 
 9 8 
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Would you that spangle of Existence spend 
 (XLix.) About the secret — quick about it, Friend ! 
 lS8g A Hair perhaps divides the False and True, 
 
 And upon what, prithee, may life depetid? 
 
 (L ) A Hair perhaps divides the False and True ; 
 
 lS8 Yes j and a single Alif were the clue — 
 
 Could you but find it — to the Treasure-house, 
 And peradventure to The Master too ; 
 
 Nicolas La distance qui sépare l'incrédulité de la foi 
 
 ( 20 ) n'est que d'un souffle, celle qui sépare le cloute de 
 
 la certitude n'est également que d'un souffle; 
 passons donc gaiement cet espace précieux d'un 
 souffle, car notre vie aussi n'est séparé (de la mort) 
 que par l'espace d'un souffle. 
 
 McCarthy 
 
 (46) 
 
 Only a breath divides faith and unfaith, only a 
 breath divides belief from doubt. Let us then 
 make merry while we still draw breath, for only a 
 breath divides life from death. 
 
 Whinfield From doubt to clear assurance is a breath, 
 / 24 \ A breath from infidelity to faith ; 
 
 do 1882) ^ n ' P rec ' ous breath ! enjoy it while you may, 
 
 'Tis all that life can give, and then comes death. 
 
 Garner From Faith to Disbelief is but a Breath, 
 
 (Vlll. 10) From Doubt to Faith, but one, the Dervish saith, 
 Come gaily let us pass our fleeting Days, — 
 A Little While then cometh the Angel Death.
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm, 99 
 
 Vom Unglauben zum Glauben hin ist nur ein Bodenstedt 
 Hauch, (i. 38) 
 
 Wie vom Zweifel bis zur Gevvissheit auch : 
 
 So mach' uns der winzige Sprung keine Not, 
 
 Trennt doch nur ein Hauch selbst das Leben vom 
 Tod! 
 
 In the second edition of FitzGerald, the third line of XLIX 
 and first of L (numbered respectively L and LI ) read : — 
 A Hair, they say, divides the False and True. 
 In line 3 of stanza L, a dash replaces the comma of Edi- 
 tion II. 
 
 In Edition IV the last line of XLIX reads : — 
 
 And upon what, prithee does life depend? 
 
 Whinfield, 109, reads : — 
 
 Once and again my soul did me implore, 
 To teach her, if I might, the heavenly lore ; 
 
 I bade her learn the Alif -cell by heart. 
 Who knows that letter well ?ieed learn no more. 
 
 (Alif kafat, — " the One. that is God, is enough." See Hafiz, 
 Ode 416 : " He who knows the One knows all.") 
 
 So in the Gulshan-i-Râz : — 
 
 Even as the point can change 'Ain ' into 'Chain,' 
 The essence to the cloud, so fancy conjures up 
 Nature from the ethereal essence. 
 
 A dot or diacritical mark over the initial of a Persian word 
 changes its pronunciation. Ain becomes ghain, and 'ab'ir, am- 
 bergris, perfume, assumes a resemblance to ghubAr, dust or 
 vapor. 
 
 See also Appendix XIII to Rubâ'iy XXXIII.
 
 ioo Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald Whose secret Presence, through Creation's veins 
 ( LI ) Running Quicksilver-like eludes your pains ; 
 
 1889 Taking all shapes from Mäh to Mâhi ; and 
 
 They change and perish all — but He remains ; 
 
 (Lii ) A moment guess 'd — then back behind the Fold 
 1889 I/nmerst of Darkness round the Drama rolVd 
 
 Which, for the Pastime of Eternity, 
 He doth Himself contrive, enact, behold. 
 
 Nicolas Tantôt tu es caché, ne te manifestant à 
 
 (443) personne; tantôt tu te découvres dans toutes les 
 choses créées. C'est pour toi-même sans doute et 
 pour ton plaisir que tu produis ces merveilleux 
 effets, car tu es à la fois et l'essence du spectacle 
 qu'on voit et ton propre spectateur. 
 
 McCarthy Now thou art hidden, known of none, now thou 
 
 (346) art displayed in all created things. It is for thy 
 
 own delight that thou performest these wonders, 
 being at once the sport and the spectator. 
 
 Whinfield Now in thick clouds Thy face Thou dost immerse, 
 (475) And now display it in this universe; 
 
 (244, 18S2) Thou the spectator, Thou the spectacle, 
 
 Sole to Thyself Thy glories dost rehearse.
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. ioi 
 
 At times Thou art concealed, and then anon Garner 
 
 Thy subtle Essence castest Thou upon ( |X - 2 ) 
 
 All Things Existent ' twixt the Earth and Moon; 
 Thou art the Player and the Looker-on. 
 
 Bald verhüllst Du den Augen der Menschen Dich Bodenstedt 
 ganz, (*• 8 ) 
 
 Zeigst bald Dich in Bildern der Schöpfung voll 
 Glanz. 
 
 Für Dich selbst schaffst Du Alles an Wundern 
 so reich, 
 
 Bist Inhalt des Schauspiels, Zuschauer zugleich. 
 
 Bald verhüllt und jedem Blicke unerreichbar Von Schack 
 
 waltest du, (172) 
 
 Bald auch in der Schöpfung tausend Bildern dich 
 
 entfaltest du, 
 Und es scheint, dass nur zur Kurzweil all das für 
 
 dich selber ist, 
 Da du selbst das Schauspiel und auch selber der 
 
 Beschauer bist. 
 
 In second and third editions (1868 and 1872) does instead 
 ol doth. In Edition II a comma separates running and 
 Quicksilver-like. 
 
 See Appendix XVII.
 
 io2 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald But if in vain, down on the stubborn fioor 
 
 (LIII.) Of Earth, and tip to Heaven's unopening Door, 
 18S9 You gaze To-day, while You are You — how 
 
 then 
 To-morrow, You when shall be You no more ? 
 
 (Liv.) But if in vain, down on the stubborn floor 
 ,863 Of Earth, and up to Heav'n's unopening Door, 
 
 You gaze To-day, while You are You — how 
 then 
 To-morrow, when You shall be You no more ? 
 
 Nicolas Si le cœur humain avait une connaissance exacte 
 
 ( 49 ) des secrets de la vie, il connaîtrait également, à 
 
 l'article de la mort, les secrets de Dieu. Si aujour- 
 d'hui que tu es avec toi-même tu ne sais rien, que 
 sauras-tu demain quand tu seras sorti de ce toi- 
 même ? 
 
 McCarthy if the human heart could know the secrets of 
 
 (69) life, it would know too, knowing death, the secrets 
 
 of God. If to-day, when you are with yourself, 
 
 you know nothing, what shall you know to-morrow, 
 
 when you have passed from yourself ? 
 
 Whinfleld if the heart knew life's secrets here below, 
 
 (52) At death 't would know God's secrets too, I trow ; 
 
 But, if you know naught here, while still your- 
 self, 
 To-morrow, stripped of self, what can you know ?
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 103 
 
 Durchschaute das Herz das Geheimnis des Bodenstedt 
 
 Lebens, (IV. 2) 
 
 So erforscht' es den Tod und auch Gott nicht 
 
 vergebens. 
 Kannst Du heute, noch ganz bei Dir selbst nichts 
 
 gewahren, 
 Was wirst Du morgen, wenn ganz Dir entfremdet, 
 
 erfahren ? 
 
 Begriffe dieses Leben nur von Grund aus unser Von Schack 
 Geist, (23) 
 
 Wohl würd' er die Geheimnisse des Todes auch 
 erkunden ; 
 Doch wenn du heute, da du noch bei Sinnen 
 bist, nichts weisst, 
 Was wirst du morgen wissen, wenn die Sinne 
 dir geschwunden? 
 
 FitzGerald apparently derived Rubâiyât XLII and LUI from 
 the same original. 
 
 In Whinfield, 2S (18S2), read, earth's secrets, heaven's 
 secrets. 
 
 See Rubâ'iy XLII and Appendix XVIII.
 
 iü4 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Waste not your /lour, nor in the vain pursuit 
 (LIV.) Qf This and That endeavour and dispute ; 
 1889 Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape, 
 
 Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit. 
 
 (XXXIX) How long, how long, in infinite Pursuit 
 l8 59 Of This and That endeavour and dispute ? 
 
 Better be merry with the fruitful Grape, 
 Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit. 
 
 Nicolas Jusques h quand ces arguments sur les cinq et 
 
 (4*4 les quatre, ô échanson ? En comprendre un, ô 
 
 échanson ! est aussi difficile que d'en saisir cent 
 mille. Nous sommes tous de terre, ô échanson • 
 accorde la harpe; nous sommes tous de vent, 
 apporte du vin, ô échanson ! 
 
 McCarthy How long will these wrangle on the five and 
 
 (328) four, O cup-bearer! It is as hard to understand 
 
 one as one hundred thousand, O cup-bearer ; vvc 
 
 are but earth, so tune the lute, O cup-bearer ; we 
 
 are but as soft air, bring wine, O cup-bearer ! 
 
 Whinfield Reason not of the five, nor of the four, 
 
 (453) Be their dark problems one or many score ; 
 
 We are but earth, go, minstrel, bring the lute, 
 We are but air, bring wine, I ask no more.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 105 
 
 How long, oh, Sàki, shall we ponder o'er Garner 
 
 These Fruitless Arguments of Five and Four? CVI. 5) 
 
 Come, Sâki, tune Thy Harp, we all are Dust, 
 A Breath of Wind, — come, till one Goblet more. 
 
 Wie lange noch braucht man als Argumente Bodenstedt 
 
 Unsre fünf Sinne und vier Elemente ! ( 1X 97) 
 
 Eins zu begreifen, ist ganz so schwer, 
 
 Als ob es ein Hunderttausend war'. 
 Wir sind Alle nur Staub, das bedenke 
 
 Und stimme die Harfe, o Schenke ! 
 Ein Hauch ist unser ganzes Sein, 
 
 Das bedenke, o Schenke, und bring mir Wein! 
 
 The second edition (LVI, 1868) of FitzGerald is the same 
 as the third, fourth, and fifth, except in the third line, which 
 reads : — 
 
 Better be merry with the fruitful Grape. 
 
 See Appendix XIX.
 
 io6 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald You know, my Friends, with what a brave 
 (LV.) Carouse 
 
 1889 I made a Second Marriage in my house; 
 
 Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed, 
 And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse. 
 
 (XL.) You know, my Friends, how long since in my 
 1859 House 
 
 For a new Marriage I did make Carouse : 
 Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed, 
 
 And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse. 
 
 Nicolas Moi, je verserai du vin dans une coupe qui 
 
 (1S1) puisse en contenir un mèn. Je me contenterai 
 
 d'en boire deux coupes ; mais d'abord je divorcerai 
 
 trois fois avec la religion et la raison, et ensuite 
 
 j'épouserai la fille de la vigne. 
 
 McCarthy 
 (20) 
 
 I myself will pour wine into a cup which con- 
 tai neth a full measure. Two cups thereof will 
 content me, but I will immediately three times 
 divorce from me Religion and Reason, and wed 
 the Daughter of the Vine. 
 
 M. K. A double-sized beaker to measure my wine I '11 
 
 take ; 
 Two doses to match my settled design I '11 take ; 
 With the first, I'll divorce me from Faith and 
 from Reason quite, 
 With the next, a new bride in the Child of the 
 Vine I '11 take !
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 107 
 
 To drain a gallon beaker I design, Whinfield 
 
 Yea, two great beakers, brimmed with richest (196) 
 wine ; 
 Old faith and reason thrice will I divorce, 
 Then take to wife the daughter of the vine. 
 
 To Wisdom's Daughter I was one time wed, Garner 
 
 Thereafter Fruitless Dogma shared my bed, d. 26 ) 
 
 Her too I have divorced now from my roof, 
 And ta'en the Daughter of the Vine instead. 
 
 Bringt einen Becher mir, so gross, class man ihn Von Schack 
 schwer nur hebe ! ( I53 ) 
 
 Wenn man ihn auch nur zweimal leert, zum 
 
 Rausch genügen muss es schon. 
 Zuerst will ich von der Vernunft mich scheiden 
 und der Religion, 
 Und mich vermählen dann sofort dem holden 
 Kind der Rebe. 
 
 The second edition of FitzGerald (LVIII, 1S6S) differs from 
 the first only in the first line. It begins : — 
 
 You know, my Friends, hoju bravely in my House 
 For a new Marriage I did make Carouse. 
 Whinfield, 106 (1882), reads : — 
 
 To drain two beakers is my fixed design, 
 
 Two double beakers brimmed with heady ivine ; 
 
 Old faith and reason thus will I divorce. 
 And take to wife the daughter of the vine. 
 The Gulshan-i-Rdz says : — 
 
 He who by reason doth content his soul 
 Much store of trouble for that soul provides. 
 See Appendix XX.
 
 îoS Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald For " Is " and " Is-not " though with Rule and 
 (lvi.) Line 
 
 18S9 A n d " Up-and-down " by Logic I define, 
 Of all that one should care to fathom, I 
 Was never deep in anything but — Wine. 
 
 (XLr.) For "Is" and "Is-not" though with Rule and 
 1859 Line, 
 
 And " Up-and-down " without, I could define, 14 
 
 I yet in all I only cared to know, 
 Was never deep in anything but — Wine. 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (165) 
 
 Jusques à quand passeras-tu ta vie à t'adorer 
 toi-même ou à chercher la cause du néant et de 
 l'être ? Bois du vin, car une vie qui est suivie de 
 la mort, il vaut mieux la passer, soit dans le 
 sommeil, soit dans l'ivresse. 
 
 McCarthy How long wilt thou expend thy existence on 
 
 (276) vam S elf-love, or in searching for the source of 
 
 being and of not being? Drink wine, then, for 
 
 since thy life must be followed by death, thou 
 
 hadst best pass it in sleep or in drunkenness.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 109 
 
 Why spend life in vainglorious essay 
 All Being and Non-being to survey? 
 
 Since Death is ever pressing at your heels, 
 'T is best to drink or dream your life away. 
 
 Whinfield 
 (183) 
 
 Wie lange willst Du noch leben, 
 
 In selbstvergötterndem Streben, 
 Im Wahn, es müsse Deine Pflicht sein, 
 
 Den Grund zu suchen von Sein und Nichtsein? 
 Trink Wein ! Ein Leben, das eilt zum Tod, 
 
 Folgt nur dem einen klugen Gebot, 
 Sich glücklich bis an's Ende zu bringen, 
 
 Mit Wein und sonstigen guten Dingen. 
 
 Bodènstedt 
 
 (IV. 8) 
 
 The Quaritch editions of FitzGerald have a comma at the 
 end of the first line. 
 See Appendix XXI. 
 
 19
 
 no Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Ah, but my Computations, People say, 
 
 (LVll.) Reduced the Year to better reckoning ? — Nay, 
 1889 > y 2i , as on iy striking from the Calendar 
 
 Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday. 
 
 (XXXVII.) Ah, fill the Cup : — what boots it to repeat 
 1859 How Time is slipping underneath our Feet : 
 
 Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday, 
 Why fret about them if To-day be sweet ! 
 
 (Lix.) Ah, but my Computations people say, 
 1868 Have squared the Year to Human Compass, eh ? 
 
 If so, by striking from the Calendar 
 Unborn To-morrow, and dead Yesterday. 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (42) 
 
 McCarthy 
 
 (-7) 
 
 Puisque la roue céleste et le destin ne t'ont 
 jamais été favorables, que t'importe de compter 
 sept cieux ou de croire qu'il en existe huit ? Il y a 
 (je le répète) deux jours dont je ne me suis jamais 
 soucié, c'est le jour qui n'est pas venu et celui qui 
 est passé. 
 
 Since the heavenly wheel and fate have never 
 been your friends, why should you reck whether 
 the heavens be seven or eight? There are, I say 
 again, two clays for which I take no thought, the 
 day which has not come, and the day which has 
 eone for ever.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. tit 
 
 Behold the tricks this wheeling dome doth play ! Whinfield 
 And earth laid bare of old friends torn away! (386) 
 
 O live this present moment, which is thine 
 Seek not a morrow, mourn not yesterday ! 
 
 Wenn das launische Schicksal Dich nicht liebt, Bodenstedt 
 
 Was kümmert's Dich denn, wieviel Himmel es (V. 4) 
 
 giebt ? 
 Ich mache mir um die Zeit keinen Gram, 
 Die schon verging und noch nicht kam. 
 
 Da, nach deinem Wunsch zu leben, dir das Von Schack 
 
 Schicksal keine Macht giebt ( lS 7) 
 
 Kann dich 's kümmern, ob es sieben Himmel oder 
 
 ob es acht giebt? 
 Was in diesem Augenblicke da ist, das nur geht 
 
 dich an, 
 Nicht was ehedem gewesen oder was noch 
 
 kommen kann. 
 
 Persian astrologers believed that there were seven heavens, 
 in the seventh of which, according to Mohammed, Paradise was 
 situated, with its stream of wine and its bevies of lovely dark- 
 eyed houris. Certain wise men argued that there were eight 
 heavens. 
 
 Whinfield, 3S6, is not strictly admissible here, except for the 
 thought ; see Whinfield, 26, p. 59. 
 
 See also Rubâiyât XXIX, XXX, and LXXIV.
 
 ii2 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, 
 
 (LVill.) Came shining through the Dicsk an Angel Shape 
 1889 Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder ; and 
 
 He bid me taste of it j and "'twas — the Grape ! 
 
 (XLii.) And lately, by the Tavern Door agape, 
 1859 Came stealing through the Dusk an Angel Shape 
 
 Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder ; and 
 He bid me taste of it ; and 'twas — the Grape ! 
 
 Nicolas Hier au soir, dans la taverne, cet objet de mon 
 
 (321) cœur qui me ravit l'âme (Dieu) me présenta une 
 
 coupe avec an air ravissant de sincérité et de désir 
 de me complaire, et m'invita à boire. "Non, lui 
 dis-je, je ne boirai pas. — Bois, me répondit-il, 
 pour l'amour de mon cœur." 
 
 McCarthy Last night in the tavern my familiar friend held 
 
 (3 6 °) out the cup and bade me drink of it. " I will not 
 drink," I said, and he replied, " Drink for my 
 love's sake." 
 
 Whinfield Last night that idol who enchants my heart, 
 With true desire to elevate my heart, 
 
 Gave me his cup to drink; when I refused, 
 He said, " O drink to gratify my heart ! "
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 113 
 
 Meine Herzensräuberin und holde Betäuberin Bodenstedt 
 
 Reichte mir gestern einen Becher mit Wein (VIII. 46) 
 
 Und bat mich zu trinken ; ich sagte " Nein." 
 
 Doch bei ihrer Liebe beschworen 
 
 Gab ich mich bald verloren. 
 
 M. K. calls FitzGerald's version, " A tolerably close para- 
 phrase of the Persian words, but conveying a totally different 
 sense. 
 
 See Appendix XXII.
 
 ii4 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald The Grape that can with Logic absolute 
 
 (Lix.) -phe Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute : 
 1889 jy ie sovereign Alchemist that in a trice 
 
 Lifers leaden metal into Gold transmute : 
 
 (XLiii.) The Grape that can with Logic absolute 
 1859 The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects n confute: 
 
 The subtle Alchemist that in a Trice 
 Life's leaden Metal into Gold transmute. 
 
 Nicolas Bois du vin, car c'est lui qui mettra un terme 
 
 (*79) aux inquiétudes de ton cœur; il te délivrera de tes 
 
 méditations sur les soixante et douze nations. Ne 
 t'abstiens pas de cette alchimie, car, si tu en bois 
 un mèn seulement, elle détruira en toi mille 
 infirmités. 
 
 McCarthy 
 
 (2S 9 ) 
 
 Drink wine, for therein thou shalt find forget- 
 fulness for all thy anxieties, and it will deliver thee 
 from thy meditations on the problems of the earth. 
 Renounce not this alchemy, for if thou drinkest 
 but one measure thereof, it will scatter to the winds 
 thy endless cares. 
 
 Whinfield Drink wine to root up metaphysic weeds, 
 ( J 94) And tangle of the two-and-seventy creeds ; 
 Do not forswear that wondrous alchemy, 
 'T will turn to sold, and cure a thousand needs.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 115 
 
 Garner 
 
 Come, fill a sparkling Cup and from the Creed 
 
 Of One and All the Seventy Sects be freed, CI- 27) 
 
 And to the Riddle of Futurity, 
 The Answer in the Flowing Goblet read. 
 
 Trink Wein, um Deines Herzens Unruh zu bän- Bodenstedt 
 digen. (IX. 80) 
 
 Und den Streit der zwei und siebzig Secten zu 
 endigen. 
 
 Enthalte Dich nicht dieser Alchymie : 
 
 Mit einem Kruge tausend Gebrechen heilt sie. 
 
 FitzGerald says in bis note (19): — "The Seventy-two 
 Religions supposed to divide the World, including Islamism, 
 as some think : but others not." The note to Edition I (17) 
 was even shorter, and ran : " The 72 Sects into which Islamism 
 so soon split." 
 
 Nicolas says : " Les Persans, en general, entendent par 
 cette expression : Les soixante et douze nations, tous les 
 peuples qui habitent le globe terrestre et qui sont tous divisés 
 par des dogmes diverses, croyant chacun en conscience pos- 
 séder exclusivement la vérité." 
 
 Muhammad is quoted by YVhinfïeld as saying, " My people 
 shall be divided into seventy-three sects, all of which, save one, 
 shall have their portion in the fire. (Pocock, Specimen 210)." 
 The fourth line of Whinfield, 105 (1SS2), reads : — 
 
 'Twill turn to gold and furnish all your needs. 
 
 There are also slight variations in punctuation. A men is 
 a Persian weight, according to Nicolas, of about six pounds 
 {environ six livres). 
 
 See Appendix XXII.
 
 1 1 6 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald The mighty Mahmihl, Allah-breathing Lord, 
 
 That all the misbelieving and black Horde 
 18S9 
 
 Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul 
 
 Scatters before him with his whirlwind Siuord. 
 
 (XLiv.) The mighty Mahmdd, the victorious Lord, 
 1859 That all the misbelieving and black Horde 18 
 
 Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul 
 Scatters and slays with his enchanted Sword. 
 
 Whinfield Drink wine ! and then as Mahmud thou wilt reign, 
 ^ 1I9 ' And hear a music passing David's strain: 
 
 Think not of past or future, seize to-day, 
 Then all thy life will not be lived in vain. 
 
 Von Shack Ein Weiterobrer Mahmud ist der Rebensaft ; 
 (43) \vie oft sind nicht die glaubenslosen Horden 
 
 Der Angst und Sorgen seiner Heldenkraft 
 Erlegen und in Flucht getrieben worden ?
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 1 1 7 
 
 " The here-mentioned World Conquerer," says Von Schack, 
 who may possibly have translated this stanza from FitzGerald, 
 " is Mahmud the Gaznewid (997 to 1030 of our era), celebrated 
 for his mighty warlike expeditions to India. During the last 
 one he destroyed the great temple of Sumnat and carried back 
 with him the famous Sandalwood doors as trophies to his resi- 
 dence at Gazna. Firdüsi lived at his court. 1 ' 
 
 FitzGerald explains the first line thus in his note (20) : — 
 "Alluding to Sultan Mahmiid's Conquest of India and its 
 dark people." 
 
 In the first edition the note reads : — 
 
 (l^) This alludes to Sultan Mahmiid's Conquest of India 
 and its swarthy idolaters. 
 
 The forty-fifth quatrain of FitzGerald's first edition was 
 omitted from those that succeeded : — 
 
 But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me 
 The Quarrel of the Universe let be : 
 And, in some corner of the Hubbub coucht, 
 Make Ga?ne of that which makes as much of Thee. 
 
 Which may be compared with Whinfield, 367 : — 
 Chief of old friends ! hearken to what I say, 
 Let not heaven'' s treacherous wheel your heart dismay ; 
 
 But rest contented in your humble nook, 
 And watch the games that wheel is wont to play.
 
 1 1 S Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 
 
 FitzO-erald Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare 
 (I. xi.) Blaspheme the twisted tendril as a Snare ? 
 jgsg A Blessing, we should use it, should we not ? 
 
 And if a Curse — why, then, Who set it there? 
 
 Nicolas Tu as mis en nous une passion irrésistible (ce 
 
 U26) qui équivaut à un ordre de toi), et d'un autre côté 
 
 tu nous défends de nous y livrer. Les pauvres 
 humains sont dans un embarras extrême entre cet 
 ordre et cette défense, car c'est comme tu ordon- 
 nais d'incliner la coupe et défendais d'en verser le 
 contenu. 
 
 McCarthy Thou hast planted in our hearts an irresistible 
 
 (g 4 ) desire, and at the same time thou hast forbidden 
 
 us to satisfy it. In what a strait dost thou find 
 thyself, oh, unhappy man, between this law of thy 
 nature, and this commandment ? It is as if thou 
 wert ordered to turn down the cup, without spilling 
 the contents thereof. 
 
 Whinfield He binds us in resistless Nature's chain, 
 (265) And yet bids us our natures to restrain ; 
 
 Between these counter rules we stand perplexed, 
 " Hold the jar slant, but all the wine retain." 
 
 Garner Oh Thou hast made us Slaves to Passion's 
 
 (vin. 4 ) Sway, — 
 
 Although our Master we must ne'er obey ; — 
 
 But tell me this, how can we tip the Jar, 
 And still not let its Contents run away ?
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 119 
 
 Du gabst uns Triebe, die uns gewaltsam treiben, Bodenstedt 
 
 Und befiehlt uns, wir sollen enthaltsam bleiben. (I. 18) 
 
 Durch diesen zwiespältigen Zustand 
 
 Kommen wir Armen zu keinem Ruhstand. 
 Es ist uns in unsrer Not 
 
 Als heischte Dein Gebot, 
 Einen vollen Weinkrug umzukehren 
 
 Und doch ihm, auszufliessen, zu wehren. 
 
 Gewalt'ge Leidenschaften hat uns Gott zuerst in's Von Schack 
 
 Herz gepflanzt, (i 37 ) 
 
 Dann sagt er uns : "Ich strafe dich, wenn du sie 
 
 nicht bemeistern kannst." 
 Wir Armen ! Spricht ein Vater wohl : " die Schale 
 
 kehre um, mein Kind ! " 
 Und straft sodann das Söhnchen, wenn der Inhalt 
 
 auf den Boden rinnt ? 
 
 Whinfield, 144 (1882), reads : — 
 
 He binds us fast in nature's cogent chain, 
 And yet bids us our natures to restrain ; 
 
 These counter precepts how can we obey? 
 " Hold the jar slant, but yet the wine retain" 
 
 See Appendix XXIII.
 
 I20 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 
 
 FitzGerald I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must, 
 
 (LXii.) Scared by some After-reckoning to? en on trust, 
 
 1889 
 
 Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink, 
 
 To fill the Cup — when crumbled into Dust / 
 
 (LXIV.) 1 must abjure the Balm of Life, I must, 
 
 Scared by some after reckoning ta'en on trust, 
 Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink, 
 When the frail Cup is crumbled into Dust ! 
 
 Nicolas 
 (169) 
 
 On prétend qu'il existe un paradis où sont des 
 houris, où coule le Kooucer, où se trouve du vin 
 limpide, du miel, du sucre ; oh ! remplis vite une 
 coupe de vin et mets-la moi en main, car une 
 jouissance présente vaut mille jouissances futures ! 
 
 McCarthy 
 (267) 
 
 Folk talk of Paradise where houris dwell, where 
 the heavenly river flows, where wine and honey 
 and sugar abound ! Bah ! Fill me quick a cup of 
 wine and put it in my hand, for a present pleasure 
 is worth a thousand future joys.
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 1 2 1 
 
 Im Paradies verheisst ihr mir schwarzäugiger Von Schack 
 Huris Küsse, (97) 
 
 Von Wein und Honig, sagt ihr, sei dort voll das 
 Bett der Flüsse 
 Schnell her das Glas! Mehr wert ist mir ein 
 jetziger Genuss, 
 
 Als eine ganze Million zukünftiger Genüsse. 
 
 The Kooucer or Kausar is Muhammad's River of Paradise, 
 the water of which is sweeter than honey, whiter than milk. 
 It is mentioned in Whinfield, 459. 
 
 Behold, where'er we turn our ravished eyes, 
 Sweet verdure springs, and crystal Kausars rise ; 
 
 And plains, once bare as hell, now smile as heaven : 
 Enjoy this heaven with maids of Paradise .' 
 
 See Rubâ'iy XIII and Appendix XXIV.
 
 122 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Oh threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise ! 
 (LXill.) Q ne thing at least is certain — This Life flies ; 
 1889 Q ne thing is certain and the rest is Lies ; 
 
 The Flower that once has blown for ever dies. 
 
 (xxvi.) Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise 
 l8 59 To talk ; one thing is certain, that Life flies ; 
 
 One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies ; 
 The Flower that once has blown for ever dies. 
 
 Whinfield Long must you sleep within your silent tomb, 
 ( 6 °) Apart from friends, in solitary gloom; 
 
 1882 Hark, while I whisper softly in your ear, 
 
 " Never again may withered tulips bloom." 
 
 Drink wine ! long must you sleep within the tomb, 
 Without a friend, or wife to cheer your gloom; 
 
 Hear what I say, and tell it not again, 
 " Never again can withered tulips bloom." 
 
 #»' Drink ! for thou soon shalt sleep within the tomb, 
 
 Nor friend nor foe shall break the eternal gloom. 
 
 Beware ! and tell to none this secret dark, — 
 The faded rose may never hope to bloom.
 
 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 123 
 
 Gestatte den Tagen noch den Nächten auf Erden, Von Schack 
 Dich zu betrüben! Was immer du treibst und (3^) 
 
 thust, 
 
 Bedenke, dass stets von Neuem geboren sie werden, 
 Indessen auf ewi£ du dort unten ruhst ! 
 
 The last line of Rubd'iy LXVI in the second edition of 
 FitzGerald reads : — 
 
 The Flower that once is blown for ever dies. 
 
 Otherwise it is the same as that numbered LXIII in sub- 
 sequent editions. The edition of 186S contained a quatrain 
 numbered XXXIII, and afterwards omitted, in which the last 
 line is identical with the above : — 
 
 Another Voice, when I am sleeping, cries, 
 
 " The Flower should open ivith the Morning skies, 1 ' 
 
 And a retreating Whisper, as I wake — 
 " The Flower that once has blown for ever dies." 
 
 See Rubâ'iy VII, p. 14, and Appendix XXV.
 
 124 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGeraid Strange, is it not .' that of the myriads who 
 (LXiv.) Before us passed the door of J darkness through, 
 1889 A \-(it one returns to tell us of the Road, 
 
 Which to discover we must travel too. 
 
 Nicolas De tous ceux qui ont pris le long chemin, quel 
 
 (217) est celui qui en est revenu pour que je lui en 
 
 demande des nouvelles? Ô ami! garde^toi de 
 
 rien laisser en vue d'un espoir quelconque dans ce 
 
 mesquin sérail, car, sache-le, tu n'y reviendras pas. 
 
 McCarthy Of all who have set out upon the long journey, 
 
 (160) who has come back, that I may ask him tidings ? 
 
 My friends, take heed to let naught go by in the 
 
 hope of hopes for, be sure, you will not come back 
 
 again. 
 
 Whinfield Who e'er returned of all that went before, 
 (258) To tell of that long road they travel o'er? 
 
 Leave naught undone of what you have to do, 
 For when you go, you will return no more. 
 
 Garner Of Those who have the " Long Road " travelled 
 
 (II. 7) o'er, 
 
 Not One will bring Thee News of it, before 
 
 Thou too shalt go, and heed Thee that Thou 
 leavest 
 Without Regret, Thou shalt return no more.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 125 
 
 Much have I wandered over vale and plain, #(>9) 
 
 Through many climes, in joy, in grief and pain, 
 
 Yet never heard men say " The traveller 
 Who passed this way has now returned again." 
 
 Wer hat je, der den langen Weg gemacht Bodenstedt 
 
 In's Jenseits, Kunde davon heimgebracht? (IV. 14) 
 
 Verlass Dich, Freund, hier auf kein Hoffnungs- 
 glück, 
 Denn, wenn Du scheidest, kommst Du nicht 
 zurück. 
 
 The last two lines of Whinfiekl, 141 (1SS2), read : — 
 Set not your heart on earth, you too must go 
 And, when you go, you will return no more. 
 
 See Appendix XXVI.
 
 126 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald The Revelations of Devout and Learn',! 
 (i. \v.) Who rose before us, and as Prophets burned, 
 l8 3 9 . 1 re all but Stories, whù I/, awoke pom Sleep 
 
 They told their comrades, and to Sleep returned. 
 
 Nicolas Ceux qui sont doues de sci< vertu, qui 
 
 ( 4 6 4 ) par leur profond savoir sont devenus le flambeau 
 de leurs disciples, ceux là mêmes n'ont pas fait un 
 pas en dehors de cette nuit profonde. Ils ont 
 débité quelques fables et sonl rentrés dans le som- 
 meil (de la m< 
 
 M. k. Those who were paragons of Worth and Km. 
 
 Whose greatness torchlike lights their fellow men. 
 Out of this night profound no path have tr.u i d 
 for us ; — 
 Thej \e babbled dreams, then fall'n to sleep 
 
 ! 11 ! 
 
 Whinfield They who by genius, and by power of brain, 
 (209) The rank of man's enlighteners attain. 
 
 Not even they emerge from this dark night, 
 But tell their dreams, and fall asleep again. 
 
 Garner 
 (VI. 8) 
 
 And of Them All endowed with Wit and Learning, 
 And styled by Men 'bright Torch of Wisdom 
 burning,' 
 Not One has passed a Step beyond the Dark- 
 ness, 
 They mused a while, then left, to Sleep returning.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 127 
 
 Selbst der Tugend und Wahrheit erhabenste Mei Bodenstedt 
 
 ster, (X. 40) 
 
 Die der Welt geleuchtet als Führer der Geister, 
 Vermochten keinen Tritt aus der Nacht zu thun, 
 Erzählten uns Fabeln und gingen zu ruhn. 
 
 Selbst Jene, die es durch Wissen und Geist und Von Schack 
 
 Tugend Allen zuvorgethan, (162) 
 
 Die leuchtend ihren Schülern voran geschritten 
 
 auf dieser Lebensbahn, 
 Nicht lüften konnten den Schleier sie, der aller 
 
 Sterblichen Auge bedeckt ; 
 Sie haben einige Fabeln erzählt und dann zum 
 
 Schlummer sich hingestreckt. 
 
 The last line in the second and third editions of FitzGerald 
 
 reads : — 
 
 They told their fellows, and to Sleep returned. 
 
 Whinfield, 116 (1S82), reads : — 
 
 The shining lights of this our age, who keep 
 Ablaze the torch of art and science deep. 
 
 Never see day, but, whelmed in endless night, 
 Recount their dreams and get them back to sleep. 
 
 M. K. says that FitzGerald's version is "not so good as the 
 original, which is the last stanza of the Persian text as 
 given by Nicolas." 
 
 See Appendix XXVI.
 
 128 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald / sent my Soul through the Invisible, 
 (lxvi.) Some letter ofthat After-life to spell : 
 
 1889 And by and by my Soul return 'd to »n\ 
 
 And answer \i " / Myself am Jlear'n and Hell:" 
 
 (LXXI.) I sent my Soul through the Invisible 
 1868 Some letter of that After-life to spell : 
 
 And after many days my Soul retum'd 
 And said, 'Behold, Myself am Heav'n and Hell.' 
 
 Whinfield Pen, tablet, heaven and hell I looked to see 
 (i. 4 ) Above the skies, from all eternity ; 
 
 (68, 18S2) At last the master sage instructed me, 
 
 44 Pen, tablet, heaven and hell are all in thee." 
 
 *('5) Through the unknown life's first dark day my soul 
 Did seek the tablet and the pen, and Paradise 
 and Hell. 
 Then read the teacher from his mystic scroll: 
 Tablet and pen are in thy hand, and so are 
 Heaven and Hell.
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 129 
 
 Ein jegliches Herz, das die Liebe verklärt, Bodenstedt 
 
 Gleichviel welcher Glaube die Andacht nährt, (!■ 30 
 
 Hat die Leuchte zum Ziel alles Höchsten gefunden, 
 Hat Himmel und Hölle in sich überwunden. 
 
 Erkunden wollt' ich, wo der Garten Eden Von Schack 
 
 Und wo die Hölle sei, der Marterort; (335) 
 
 Da hört' ich meinen Meister also reden : 
 " In dir sind beide ; such sie dort ! " 
 
 Compare the "Bird Parliament," FitzGerald's version: It 
 is the symurgh, or " Thirty Birds," speaking from the Centre 
 of the Glory : — 
 
 All yon have been, and seen and done, and thought, 
 Not you but I, have seen and been and wrought ; 
 I was the Sin that from Myself rebelPd : 
 I the Remorse that toward Myself ' compeWd 
 
 Sin and Contrition — Retribution owed, 
 And canceled — Pilgrim, Pilgrimage and Road, 
 Was but Myself toward Myself : and Your 
 Arrival but Myself at my own Door.
 
 i 3 o 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayydtn. 
 
 FitzGerald Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill '</ Desire, 
 (Lxvii.) And Hell the Shadow from a Soul on fire 
 l8S Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves, 
 
 So late emerfcl from, shall so soon expire. 
 
 Nicolas L'univers n'est qu'un point de notre pauvre 
 
 (90) existence. Le Djéihoun (Oxus) n'est qu'une faible 
 
 trace de nos larmes mêlées de sang; l'enfer n'est 
 qu'une étincelle des peines inutiles que nous nous 
 donnons. Le paradis ne consiste qu'en un instant 
 de repos dont nous jouissons quelque-fois ici-bas. 
 
 McCarthy This world is but a hair's breadth in our wretched 
 
 (98) life. The soul but the faint trace of our blended 
 
 tears and blood. Hell is but a shadow of the vain 
 
 toils we take upon ourselves. Paradise is but the 
 
 moment's rest we sometimes taste here. 
 
 Whinfield Skies like a zone our weary lives enclose, 
 
 ( 9 ,) And from our tear-stained eyes a Jihun flows ; 
 
 Hell is a fire enkindled of our griefs ; 
 Heaven but a moment's peace, stolen from our 
 woes. 
 
 Garner 
 
 (VIII. 12) 
 
 This Universe is but a Mantle worn, 
 
 The Jehun from our flooding Tears is born, 
 
 And Hell a fire ignited by our Griefs, 
 And Heaven a respite from our Life forlorn.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 131 
 
 Nur als Gürtel schlingt das Weltall sich um unser Bodenstedt 
 
 dürftig Sein, (in. IO ) 
 
 Eine Spur nur ist die Oxus unsrer blutigen 
 
 Thränenpein. 
 Nur ein Funke ist die Hölle selbsterzeugten 
 
 Qualgeschicks, 
 Und der Himmel nur der Segen eines ruhigen 
 
 Augenblicks. 
 
 Das Schicksal ist ein fester Gurt, der unser armes Von Schack 
 
 Sein umschliesst, ( 26g ) 
 
 Mehr blut'ge Thränen weinen wir, als Wasser in 
 
 dem Oxus fliesst ; 
 Die Hölle ist ein Funken nur der Qual, in der das 
 
 Herz uns brennt, 
 Das Paradies nur ein Moment der Ruhe, der uns 
 
 wird gegönnt. 
 
 The second line in FitzGerald's second edition (LXXII, 
 
 186S) reads: — 
 
 And Hell the Shadow of a Soul on fire. 
 
 Whinfield, 41 (18S2), reads : — 
 
 Time is one point in our long weary years 
 Jihi'in a drop beside our flood of tears, 
 Hell but afire enkindled of our griefs, 
 And heaven a moment's peace stolen from our fears. 
 
 So the Gulshan-i-Raz : — 
 
 Thou art in slumber wrapped, and all thou seest 
 Is but a vision in His \ma.%e formed. 
 When on the last dread day thou shalt arvake 
 Then thou shalt knoiv that this was but a dream. 
 
 The chorus mourning for the woes of Prometheus sing : — 
 
 SaKpvfflffTaKTOv dir' ucrffuv padivûv 8' iï/3o/j.eva peos irapeiàv 
 
 poTiois erf-y^a Tra.ya.7s ' 
 
 Shedding from tender eyes, a trickling river of tears, I wet 
 my cheek with fountains of rain (Prom. Des. 399).
 
 132 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald We are no other than a moving row 
 (Lxviii.) Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go 
 1889 Round with the Sun-illumin'd Lantern held 
 
 In Midnight by the Master of the Show; 
 
 (XLVI.) For in and out, above, about, below, 
 1859 'Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show, 
 
 Play'd in a Box whose Candle is the Sun, 
 Round which we Phantom Figures come and go. 19 
 
 (LXXIII.) We are no other than a moving row 
 1868 Of visionary Shapes that come and go 
 
 Round with this Sun-illumin'd Lantern held 
 In Midnight by the Master of the Show. 
 
 Nicolas Cette voûte des cieux, sous laquelle nous 
 
 ( 2&7 ) sommes la proie du vertige, nous pouvons, par la 
 
 pensée, l'assimiler à une lanterne. L'univers est 
 cette lanterne. Le soleil y représente le foyer de 
 la lumière, et nous, semblables à ces images (dont 
 la lanterne est ornée), nous y demeurons dans la 
 stupéfaction. 
 
 McCarthy This vault of heaven under which we move in a 
 
 (230) vain shadow, maybe likened unto a lantern; the 
 
 sun is the focus, and we, like the figures, live there 
 in amazement. 
 
 M. K. 
 
 This vault of Heaven at which we gaze astounded, 
 May by a painted lantern be expounded : 
 
 The light's the Sun, the lantern is the World, 
 And We the figures whirling dazed around it!
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 133 
 
 This wheel of heaven, which makes us all afraid, Whinfield 
 I liken to a lamp's revolving shade, ( 3 1Q ) 
 
 The sun the candlestick, the earth the shade, 
 And men the trembling forms thereon portrayed. 
 
 A Turning Magic Lantern show this World, Garner 
 
 Around the Sun as Candle swiftly whirled, (IX. 4) 
 
 While mortals are but Phantom Figures traced 
 Upon the Shade, forever Onward hurled. 
 
 Dieses Weltall, mit dem wir uns schwindelnd Bodenstedt 
 
 drehen, (X . 39 ) 
 
 Ist wie eine Laterne anzusehen, 
 Drin die Sonne als Licht brennt, in bunten Reigen, 
 Uns Trugbilder — unseresgleichen — zu zeigen. 
 
 Für eine magische Laterne ist diese ganze Welt Von Schack 
 zu halten, (,) 
 
 In welcher wir voll Schwindel leben; 
 Die Sonne hängt darin als Lampe ; die Bilder aber 
 und Gestalten 
 Sind wir, die d'ran vorüberschweben. 
 
 Nous devons considérer comme une lanterne Garcin de 
 magique ce monde mobile où nous vivons dans Tassy 
 l'étourdissement. Le soleil en est la lampe, et le ' 57 
 
 monde la lanterne où nous passons comme les 
 figures qu'on y montre. 
 
 The first line of Whinfield, 165 (1882), reads : — 
 
 These circling heavens, which make us so dismayed. 
 See Appendix XXVII.
 
 134 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 
 
 FitzGerald But helpless Pieces of the Game Jit plays 
 (LXix.) Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days ; 
 i88q Hither and thither moves, and chei 6s, and 
 
 And one by one back in the Closet lays. 
 
 (XI, IX.) 
 
 1859 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 McCarthy 
 
 (6.) 
 
 M.K. 
 
 Whinfield 
 (270) 
 
 'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days 
 
 Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays: 
 
 Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays. 
 And one by one back in the Closet lays. 
 
 Nous ne sommes ici-bas que des poupées dont 
 la roue des cieux s'amuse, ceci est une veritd et 
 non un métaphore. Nous sommes, en effet, des 
 jouets sur ce damier des êtres, que nous quittons 
 enfin pour entrer un à un dans le cercueil du néant. 
 
 Here, below*, we are naught but puppets for the 
 diversion of the wheel of the heavens. This is 
 indeed a truth, and no simile. We truly are but 
 pieces on this chessboard of humanity, which in 
 the end we leave, only to enter, one by one, into the 
 grave of Nothingness. 
 
 But puppets are we in Fate's puppet-show — 
 No figure of speech is this, but in truth 't is so ! 
 On the draughtboard of Life we are shuffled to 
 and fro, 
 Then one by one to the box of Nothing go ! 
 
 We are but chessmen, destined, it is plain, 
 That great chess player, Heaven, to entertain ; 
 It moves us on life's chess-board to and fro, 
 And then in death's box shuts [us] up again.
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 135 
 
 We all are Puppets of the Sky, we run - Garner 
 
 As wills the Player till the Game is done, (IV. 2) 
 
 And when The Player wearies of the Sport, 
 He throws us into Darkness One by One. 
 
 Wir sind hier nichts als ein Spielzeug des Himmels Bodenstedt 
 
 und der Natur ; , v -. 
 
 Dies ist als Wahrheit gemeint, nicht metaphorisch 
 
 nur. 
 Wir gehn, wie die Steine im Bretspiel, durch vieler 
 
 Spieler Hände, 
 Und werden bei Seite geworfen in's Nichts, wenn 
 
 das Spiel zu Ende. 
 
 Nur Puppen, mit denen das Schicksal spielt, sind Von Schack 
 hier auf Erden wir, (, 44 ) 
 
 Erkennen muss ein Jeder das, der klareren 
 Gesichts ; 
 Figuren auf dem Schachbrett gleich geschoben 
 werden wir, 
 Dann nimmt man uns hinweg und legt uns in den 
 Sarg des Nichts. 
 
 See Appendix, XXVIII. 
 
 The first line of Fitzgerald, LXXIV (second edition, 1868), 
 reads : — 
 
 Impotent Pieces of the Game He plays. 
 
 Whinfield, 148 (18S2), begins : — 
 
 We are but chessmen, who to move are fain, 
 Just as the great Chessplayer doth ordain. 
 The missing us in the last line here appears.
 
 136 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald The Ball no question makes of Ayes and h 
 (LXX.) But Here or There as strikes the Player goes; 
 l88 9 And He that toss'd you down into the J-'ield, 
 
 He knows about it all — he knows — HE knows ! 
 
 (L.) 
 
 1859 
 
 The Ball no Question makes of Ayes and Noes, 
 But Right or Left as strikes the Player goes; 
 
 And He that toss'd Thee down into the Field, 
 He knows about it all — he knows — HE knows ! 20 
 
 Whinfield Man, like a ball, hither and thither goes, 
 (40O As fate's resistless bat directs the blows 
 
 But He, who gives thee up to this rude sport 
 He knows what drives thee, yea, He knows, He 
 knows. 
 
 Garner Oh thou who art driven like a ball, by the bat of 
 
 (MS., 1895) Fate, go to the right or left — drink wine and say 
 
 nothing, for that One who flung thee into the run 
 
 and search (mêlée) he knows, he knows, he knows, 
 
 he—.
 
 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 137 
 
 O du ! vom Loos getrieben wie von Schlägel Ballen, von 
 
 Der du in Lust des Wein's und der Huris gefallen, Hammer- 
 
 Purgstall 
 Du bist gefallen auf des Ewigen Geheiss ; igiS 
 
 Er ist es, der es weiss, der's weiss, der's weiss, der's 
 
 weiss. 
 
 The second line in the second edition of Fitzgerald (LXXV, 
 1S6S) ha=, no commas. 
 
 He says in his note (22): "A very mysterious Line in the 
 Original : — 
 
 O dànad O dânad O dànad O 
 
 breaking off something like our Wood-pigeon's Note, which she 
 is said to take up just where she left off." 
 
 In the note (20) of the 1S59 edition the mysterious line is : — 
 
 U dânad U dânad U dânad U — 
 Whinfield, 204 (1S82), reads : — 
 
 Blame not this ball, impelled by bafs hard blows, 
 That now to right and now to left it goes , 
 
 That One who wields the bat and smites the strokes 
 He knows what drives thee, yea He knows, He knows.
 
 138 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald /'//,• Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, 
 (I. XXI ) Moves on : nor all your I'itty nor Wit 
 1889 
 
 Shall lure it bat k to cancel half a Line, 
 Norallyour Tears washout a Wordofit. 
 
 (Li.) The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, 
 1859 Moves on : nor all thy Piety nor Wit 
 
 Shall hire it back to cancel half a Line, 
 Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it. 
 
 Nicolas O mon cœur! puisque le fond même des choses 
 
 (ji6) de ce monde n'est qu'une fiction, pourquoi t'aven- 
 
 turer ainsi dans un gouffre infini des chagrins? 
 
 Confie-toi au destin, supporte le mal, car ce que le 
 
 pinceau a tracé ne sera pas effacé pour toi. 
 
 McCarthy O heart, my heart, since the very basis of all this 
 
 (i S9 ) world's gear is but a fable, why do you adventure 
 
 in such an infinite abyss of sorrows? Trust thy- 
 self to Fate, uphold the evil, for what the pencil 
 has traced will not be effaced for you. 
 
 M. K. Since life has, love ! no true reality. 
 
 Why let its coil of cares a trouble be ? 
 
 Yield thee to Fate, whatever of pain it bring : 
 The Pen will never unwrite its writ for thee ! 
 
 Whinfield O heart ! this world is but a fleeting show, 
 
 (257) why should its empty griefs distress thee so ? 
 Bow down, and bear thy fate, the eternal pen 
 Will not unwrite its roll for thee, I trow !
 
 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 139 
 
 Yes, since whate'er the Pen of Fate has traced Garner 
 
 For Tears of Man will never be erased, (iv. 4 ) 
 
 Support thy Ills, do not bemoan thy Lot, 
 Let all of Fate's Decrees be bravely faced. 
 
 O Herz, da die Welt nichts als Schatten und Schein, Bodenstedt 
 Warum quälst Du Dich ab in unendlicher Pein ? (V. 17) 
 
 Mit ruhigem Sinn geh' dem Shicksal entgegen, 
 Und glaub nicht, es andre sich Deinetwegen ! 
 
 O mein Herz ! da dieses ganze Weltall Lug nur Von Schack 
 
 ist und Trug, (, 9I ) 
 
 Was dich nur so viel mit Kummer plagst du ? Sei's 
 
 damit genug ! 
 Unterwirf dich dem Geschicke ! Denn, wie schwer 
 
 du auch bedrängt, 
 Deinethalb verändern wird es nichts von dem, was 
 
 dir verhängt. 
 
 In the second (1S68) edition of Fitzgerald the above qua- 
 train was followed by one numbered LXXV1I and omitted in 
 subsequent editions. Its prototype is not known : — 
 For tct Philosopher and Doctor preach 
 Of what they will, and what they will not — each 
 
 Is but one Link in an eternal Chain. 
 That none can slip, nor break, nor over-reach. 
 In Whinfield, 140 (18S2), line 2 begins: — 
 Why let its empty griefs 
 and line 3 begins : — 
 
 Bear up and face thy fate ; 
 See Appendix XXIX.
 
 140 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGeraid And that inverted Bowl they call the Skw 
 (LXXII.) W hereunder crawling cooped we live and die, 
 
 »889 Lift not your hands to It for help — for It 
 
 As im pott ntly moves as you or I . 
 
 (LH.) And that inverted Bowl we call The Sky. 
 1859 Whereunder crawling coop't we live and die, 
 Lift not thy hands to // for help— for It 
 Rolls impotently on .is Thou or I. 
 
 Nicolas N'impute pas à la roue des deux tout le bien et 
 
 (95) tout le mal qui sont dans l'homme, toutes Les joies 
 et tous les chagrins qui nous viennent du destin ; 
 car cette roue, ami, est mille fois plus embarrassée 
 
 que toi dans la voie de l'amour (divin). 
 
 McCarthy Ascribe not to the wheel of heaven the woe and 
 
 (39) weal which are the portion of man, the thousand 
 
 joys and thousand sorrows which Fate awards us, 
 for this wheel, my friend, revolves more helpless 
 than thyself along the highway of the heavenly 
 love. 
 
 Whinfield The good and evil with man's nature blent, 
 
 (96) The weal and woe that heaven's decrees have 
 
 sent, — 
 Impute them not to motions of the skies, — 
 Skies than thyself ten times more impotent.
 
 Rubâiyâi of Omar Khayyam. 141 
 
 Ah do not think the Skies our Souls enthrall, Garner 
 
 The Griefs, the Joys that to us Mortals fall, 
 
 Come not from Thence, nor are they known to 
 Fate, 
 Heaven is far more helpless than us all. 
 
 Glaubt nicht, dass Alles vom Himmel bestimmt, Bodenstedt 
 
 Was Gutes und Böses im Menschen glimmt, (V. 8) 
 
 Was das Herz betrübt und das Herz erhellt, 
 
 Je nachdem es dem launischen Schicksal gefällt. 
 Das Himmelsrad kreist ohne Ruh 
 
 Und ist weit schlimmer daran als Du 
 Im Wirrsal und Getriebe 
 
 Auf der Bahn der ewigen Liebe. 
 
 Klag nicht den Himmel dafür an, dass Qual Von Schack 
 
 Und Lust und Weh der Liebe dich durchtoben, (83) 
 
 Denn so verliebt wie du, nur tausendmal 
 Hülfioser, taumelt er dahin dort oben. 
 
 The first line in FitzGerald's second edition (1S6S) and in 
 the first draught of Edition III is the same as in the first 
 edition. The last line in Editions II and III reads : — 
 As impotently rolls as you or I. 
 
 Whinfield, 45 (1882), reads (line 1) : thy nature blent. 
 See Appendix. XXX.
 
 142 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGeraid With Earth's first Clay Tiny did the Last Man 
 (Lxxiu.,1 knead, 
 
 1889 And there of the Last Harvest sow 1 d the Seed: 
 . lud the first Morning of Creation wrote 
 What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read. 
 
 (Lin.) With Earth's first Clav They did the Last Man's 
 1859 knead, 
 
 And then of the Last II \ M the Si 
 
 Yea, the first Morning of Creation wrote 
 What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read. 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (3>) 
 
 Les choses existantes étaient déjà marquées 
 sur la tablette de la création. Le pinceau (de 
 l'univers) est sans cesse absent du bien et du mal. 
 Dieu a imprimé au destin ce qui devait y être 
 imprimé ; les efforts que nous faisons s'en vont 
 donc en pure perte. 
 
 All things that be were long since marked upon 
 the tablet of creation. Heaven's pencil has naught 
 to do with good or evil. God set on Fate its 
 necessary seal; and all our efforts are but a vain 
 striving. 
 
 Whinfield 'T was writ at first, whatever was to be, 
 (35) By pen, unheeding human misery, 
 
 Yea, writ upon the tablet once for all, 
 To murmur or resist is vanity. 
 
 McCarthy 
 (86)
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 143 
 
 Urewig vorgezeichnet ist der Dinge Kern; Bodenstedt 
 
 Der Griffel bleibt dem Guten wie dem Bösen fern ; ( v - 
 Was Gott als Schicksal vorbestimmt, muss sich 
 
 vollenden, 
 Mag, wie er will, der eitle Mensch sich drehn und 
 wenden. 
 
 Whinfield, 20 (1882), reads : — 
 
 The "tablet " all our fortunes doth contain, 
 Writ by the " pen " that heeds not bliss nor bane ; 
 
 ' T was writ at first whatever was to be, 
 To grieve or strive is labour all in vain.
 
 144 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald YESTERDAY This Day's Madness did prepare ; 
 
 (Lxxiv.) Tomorrow's Silence, Triumph, or Despair : 
 1889 Drink ! for you know not whence you catlte, nor 
 
 10 h y : 
 Drink .' for you know not why you go, nor where. 
 
 Nicolas Sois sur tes gardes, ami, car tu seras séparé de 
 
 Os) tun âme : tu iras derrière le rideau des secrets de 
 
 Dieu. Bois du vin, car tu ne sais pas d'où tu es 
 
 venu; sois dans L'allégresse, car tu ne sais pas où 
 
 tu iras. 
 
 McCarthy Be on your guard, my friend, for you will be 
 
 (180) sundered from your soul, you will pass behind the 
 
 curtain of the secrets of heaven. Drink wine, for 
 
 you know not whence you come. Be merry, for 
 
 you know not where you go. 
 
 Whinfield Make haste ! soon must you quit this life below, 
 ( s 7) And pass the veil, and Allah's secrets know ; 
 
 Make haste to take your pleasure while you may, 
 You wot not whence you come, nor whither go. 
 
 Garner 
 
 (VIII. 7) 
 
 Ah Brother, but a little while, and Thou shalt find 
 Thy Lasting Home the ' Secret Veil ' behind ; — 
 Rejoice Thy Heart and banish Grief, for 
 know, — 
 Thy source, Thy Goal, has never been defined.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 145 
 
 Hab' Acht ! Deine Seele wird Dir entschweben Bodenstedt 
 Und der Schleier der Ewigkeit sich vor Dir heben. ( IX - 62 > 
 Trink Wein, denn Du weisst nicht und kannst nicht 
 
 verstehen, 
 Woher Du gekommen, wohin Du wirst gehen. 
 
 Einst am Ende wird vom Leibe dir der Tod die Von Schack 
 
 Seele trennen, (207) 
 
 Das Geheimnis hinter Gottes Vorhang wirst du 
 
 dann erkennen ; 
 Doch bis dahin zeche tapfer, denn, wie viel du 
 
 immer spähst, 
 Nicht ergründest du, woher kommst und nicht, 
 
 wohin du gehst. 
 
 Wliinfield, 40 (1882), reads : — 
 
 O sott/, so soon to leave this coil below, 
 
 And pass the dread mysterious curtain through, 
 
 Be of good cheer, and joy you while you may, 
 You wot not whence you come, nor whither go.
 
 146 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald I tell you this — When, started from the Goal, 
 (Lxxv.) Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal 
 1889 Of Hear' n Parwln and Mushtari they flung, 
 
 hi my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul 
 
 (Lxxvi.) The Vine had struck a fibre : which about 
 If clings my Being — let the Dervish flout j 
 
 Of my Base metal may be filed a Key, 
 That shall unlock the Poorhe howls without. 
 
 Nicolas Le jour où ce coursier céleste d'étoiles d'or fut 
 
 ("°) sellé, où hi planète de Jupiter et les Pléiades furent 
 
 crée'es, dès ce jour le divan du destin fixa notre sort. 
 
 En quoi sommes-nous coupables, puisque telle est 
 
 la part qu'on nous a faite ? 
 
 McCarthy The day when the celestial steed of golden stars 
 
 (219) was saddled, when the proud planets and the con- 
 
 stellations were created — from that same day the 
 Divan of Fate decreed our lot. How then can we 
 be held accountable since ours is the position that 
 has been made for us ? 
 
 Whinfield When Allah yoked the coursers of the sun, 
 (mo) And launched the Pleiades their race to run, 
 
 (77, 1S82) My lot was fixed in fate's high chancerv : 
 
 Then why blame me for wrong that fate has done?
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâtn. 147 
 
 Seit das Himmelsross läuft auf goldenen Pfaden, Bodenstedt 
 Seit Jupiter leuchtet zusammt den Plejaden, ( v - ») 
 
 War unser Schicksal beschlossen im Himmelsrat, — 
 Ist's unsre Schuld, wenn wir es machen zur That? 
 
 Am Tag, als das rollende Rad des Himmels zu Von Schack 
 
 kreisen begann, (264) 
 
 Als Jupiter seinen Lauf in den himmlischen Gleisen 
 
 begann, 
 Ward schon mein Wesen und Thun vom Schicksal 
 
 festgestellt ; 
 Was spricht man von Strafe mir denn in einer 
 
 anderen Welt? 
 
 FitzGerald's note (23) is: " Parwin and Mushtari — The 
 Pleiads and Jupiter." For his 1S59 version and further pos- 
 sibilities of source, see p. 14S. See also Appendix XXXL
 
 14S Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGeraid I tell Thee this — When, starting from the Goal, 
 (Liv.) Over the shoulders of the flaming Fool 
 
 «859 Of Ufa-,' n Parwin and Mushtara theyflungf* 
 In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul 
 
 (LV.) 
 «8S9 
 
 The Vine had struck a Fibre; which about 
 If clings my Being — let the Sufi flout; 
 Of my Hast- Metal may be filed a Key, 
 That shall unlock the Poor he howls without. 
 
 Nicolas Oui, jo bois du vin, et quiconque comme moi est 
 
 clairvoyant trouvera que cet acte est insignifiant 
 aux yeux de la Divinité. De toute éternité Dieu 
 a su que je boirais du vin. Si je n'en buvais pas 
 sa prescience serait pure ignorance. 
 
 McCarthy Yea, drink wine, for by him who is far-seeing as 
 
 (6) I am, it will be found that in the eyes of the Deity 
 
 the act is of small account. God from all time 
 has foreseen that I should drink wine. If I drank 
 not this fore-knowledge would become ignorance, 
 or I should not fulfil his fore-knowledee. 
 
 "Whinfleld True I drink wine, like every man of sense, 
 (■97) For I know Allah will not take offence; 
 
 (107, 1882) Before time was. IK- knew that I should drink, 
 
 And who am I to thwart His prescience?
 
 Hammer- 
 Purgstall 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 149 
 
 From all Eternity 't was known to One Garner 
 
 The Sovereign Wine Cup I would never shun, ü v - ») 
 
 And if I failed to drink this Purple Juice, — 
 God's boasted Prescience would be undone. 
 
 Ich trinke Wein und jeder trinket der gescheit, Von 
 
 Verzeihung ist dafür mir bey dem Herrn bereit. 
 Von ewig wusste Gott, ich würde trinken Wein, 
 Drum wenn ich ihn nicht tränk, Gott müsst' un- 
 wissend seyn. 
 
 Ja, ich trinke gern Wein, und wer klaren Gesichts Bodenstedt 
 
 ist (VII. 2) 
 
 Wie ich, der weiss, dass vor Gott dies Nichts ist. 
 Von ewig her kennt Gott meine Liebe zum Wein, 
 Soll ich ihn nun nüchtern des Irrtums zeihn? 
 
 Ja, ich trinke Wein und Jeder, der Verstand hat, Von Sehack 
 
 weiss : mein Zechen (287) 
 
 Wird mir nicht in Gottes Augen angerechnet als 
 
 Verbrechen. 
 Schon von Ewigkeit her wusste Gott, dass Wein 
 
 ich trinken würde, 
 Tränk' ich also nicht, so würd' es seiner Weisheit 
 
 widersprechen. 
 
 See pp. 146, 147, and Appendix XXXI.
 
 150 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGeraid And this I know : whether the one True Light 
 (LXXVII.) Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite, 
 »889 One flash of It -within the Tavern caught 
 
 Better than in the Temple lost outright. 
 
 (LVI.) And this I know : whether the one True Light, 
 1859 Kindle to Love, or Wrathconsume me quite, 
 
 One Glimpse of It within the Tavern caught 
 Better than in the Temple lost outright 
 
 Nicolas J'aime mieux être avec toi dans la taverne, et te 
 
 (222) dire la mes secrètes pensées, que d'aller sans toi 
 faire la prière au mehrab. Oui, ô Créateur de tout 
 ce qui fut et de tout ce qui est! telle est ma foi, 
 soit que tu me fasses brûler, soit que tu m'accordes 
 tes faveurs. 
 
 McCarthy I would rather in the tavern with thee pour out 
 
 (87) all the thoughts of my heart, than without thee go 
 
 and make my prayer unto heaven. This, truly, <) 
 Creator of all things present and to come, is my 
 religion ; whether thou castest me into the flames, 
 or makest me glad with the light of thy countenance. 
 
 Whinfleld In taverns better far commune with Thee, 
 
 (262) Than pray in mosques, and fail Thy face to see ! 
 O first and last of all Thy creatures Thou ; 
 'T is Thine to burn, and Thine to cherish me !
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 151 
 
 Ich mag lieber mit Dir sein in der Schenke, Bodenstedt 
 
 Um Dir Alles zu sagen, was ich denke, (I. 17) 
 
 Als ohne Dich vor die Kanzel treten, 
 
 In gedankenlosen Worten zu beten. 
 Ja, Du Schöpfer aller Dinge 
 
 Im kreisenden Weltenringe, 
 So will ich leben und sterben, 
 
 Zum Segen oder Verderben ! 
 
 Weit lieber mit einer Schönen mag ich im Wein- Von Schack 
 haus plaudern, (i 7 ) 
 
 Als ohne sie in den Moscheen beten ; 
 Ja, Gott, ich wage sonder zagen und zaudern 
 Mit diesem Glaubensbekenntnis vor dich zu 
 treten. 
 
 In the second edition of FitzGerald there is a comma after 
 Light. 
 
 Whinfield, 142 (1882), reads: — 
 
 In taverns oft Thy presence I discern, 
 
 When dwellers in the Mosque Thy absence mourn : 
 
 O Thou, the first, the last, the all in all, 
 ' Tis Thine to save or, an Thou list, to burn ! 
 
 See Appendix XXXII.
 
 152 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayydm, 
 
 FitzGeraid What ! out of senseless Nothing to provoke 
 (Lxxviii.) ../ conscious Something to resent the yoke 
 1889 oj unpermitted Pleasure^ under pain 
 
 ( )f Everlasting J 'enai 'ties, if broke! 
 
 Nicolas 
 (99) 
 
 Lorsque Dieu a confectionné la boue de mon 
 corps, il savait quel serait le résultat de mes 
 Ce n'est pas sans ses ordres que je commets les 
 péchés dont je suis coupable; dans ic cas, pour- 
 quoi au jour dernier brûler dans l'enfer? 
 
 McCarthy When God built up my body out of clay, he 
 
 (112) knew beforehand the fruit of .ill my deeds. It is 
 
 not in defiance of his will that I a sinner have 
 
 sinned. Why then tor me does nether hell await? 
 
 M. K. When the Supreme my body made of clay, 
 
 He well foreknew the part that I should play: 
 
 Not without His ordainment have I sinned ! 
 
 Why would He then 1 burn at Judgment-day? 
 
 Whinfield When Allah mixed my clay, He knew full well 
 (100) My future acts, and could each one foretell ; 
 
 Without His will no act of mine was wrought ; 
 Is it then just to punish me in hell ?
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 153 
 
 'Tvvas Allah who engraved upon my Clay Garner 
 
 The Laws I was thereafter to obey, ( IV - 5) 
 
 And will He cast me into Raging Fire, 
 Because my Actions answer to His Sway ? 
 
 Als mich Gott geknetet aus Thon, auf Erden zu Bodenstedt 
 wandeln, {Y. 10) 
 
 Kannt' er genau vorher mein Streben und Handeln. 
 
 Da ich so sündhaft nur, wie Gott es wollte, geraten, 
 
 Warum am jüngsten Tag noch in der Hölle mich 
 braten ? 
 
 Als meinen Körper Gott aus Lehm erschaffen hat, Von Schack 
 Musst' im Voraus er schon mein Thun und (213) 
 Handeln kennen ; 
 Es war auf sein Geheiss, wenn ich was Böses that ; 
 Und sollt' ich nun dafür noch in der Hölle 
 brennen ? 
 
 The last two lines of Whinfield, 46 (1SS2), read : — 
 ' Twas he who did my sins predestinate, 
 Yet thinks it just to punish me in hell. 
 
 See Appendix XXXIII.
 
 i i Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGeraid What! from his helpless Créature be repaid 
 (lxxix ) Pure Gold/or what he lent him dross-al 
 Sue for a Debt he never did contrat t, 
 And cannot answer — Oh the sorry trade ! 
 
 (i. \\\v i what : from his helpless Creature be repaid 
 Pure Gold for what he lent us dross-allay'd. 
 Sue for a I >ebt we never did contrai I 
 
 And cannot answer ( >h the sorry trade ! 
 
 Nicolas 
 (91) 
 
 Je suis un esclave révolté: où est ta volonté? 
 
 J "ai le cœur noir de OÙ est ta lumière, où 
 
 est ton contrôle? Si tu n'accordes le paradis qu'a 
 notre obéissance (a tes lois), c'est une dette dont 
 tu t'acquittes, et dans ce cas que deviennent ta 
 bienveillance et ta mise'ricorde ? 
 
 McCarthy 
 (189) 
 
 I am a rebellious slave: where is thy will ? My 
 heart is defiled with sins: where is thy light? 
 
 Where is thy control? If thou wilt only bestow 
 paradise on those who obey thy laws it is a debt 
 which thou payest, and where then is thy mercy? 
 
 Whinfield If men rebel, what of omnipotence ? 
 
 (42) And if they wander, what of providence ? 
 
 1882 If heaven be earned by works, as wages due, 
 
 What room for mercy and benevolence ?
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 155 
 
 Ich bin ein Sclav', der die Kette bricht — Bodenstedt 
 
 Wo ist Dein Wille? er hemmt mich nicht. (I- m) 
 
 Mein Herz ist schwarzer Sünden voll — 
 
 Wo ist Dein Licht, das mir leuchten soll? 
 Kommt nur der Fromme in's Himmelreich, 
 
 So kommt der Lohn dem Verdienste gleich — 
 Wo aber bleibt bei unsrer Schuld 
 
 Dann Dein Erbarmen, Deine Huld ? 
 
 Ich bin ein Sklave, der sich empört; wie reimt Von Behack. 
 
 sich das mit deiner Macht ? < 288 ) 
 
 Bist du das Licht, was lassest du mich verkommen 
 
 in der Sündennacht ? 
 Und, werden zum Paradies allein die Frommen 
 
 zugelassen, 
 Wo bleibt da deine Barmherzigkeit? Das kann 
 
 mein Geist nicht fassen. 
 
 In FitzGerald's second edition (1868) the above quatrain was 
 followed by one numbered LXXXVI, afterwards expunged : - 
 See Rubâiyât illustrative of LXXXVIII (p. 170, i), and 
 Appendix XXXVIII. 
 
 Nay, but, for terror of his wrathful Face 
 I swear I will not call Injustice Grace ; 
 
 Not one Good Fellow of the Tavern but 
 Would kick so poor a Coward from the place. 
 
 Whinfield, 93 (1883), reads : — 
 
 / drown in sin — show me Thy clemency ! 
 My soul is dark — make me Thy light to see ! 
 
 A heaven that must be earned by painful works, 
 I call a wage, not a gift fair and free.
 
 156 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 PitzGeraid oh Thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin 
 (i. xxx.) Beset the Road I was to wander in, 
 
 Thou wilt not with Predestined Evil round 
 Enmesh, and then impute my Fall to Sin ! 
 
 (LVii.) oil, Thou, who didst with Pitfall and with Gin 
 l8 S9 Beset the Road I was to wander in, 
 
 Thou wilt not with Predestination round 
 Enmesh me, and impute my Fall to Sin? 
 
 Nicolas (D'un côté) tu as dresse" deux cent embûches 
 
 (390) autour de nous; (d'un autre côté) tu nous dis: 
 "Si vous y mette/ le pied vous serez trappes de 
 mort." C'est toi qui tends les pièges, et quiconque 
 y tombe, tu l'interdis! tu lui donnes la mort, tu 
 l'appelles rebelle ! 
 
 McCarthy Thou settest snares around us manifold, and 
 
 (296) sayest, " Death to ye, if ye enter therein." Thou 
 layest the lures thyself, and then givest over thy 
 victim to doom. 
 
 Whinfield With many a snare Thou dost beset my way, 
 (432) And threatenest, if I fall therein, to slay ; 
 
 Thy rule resistless sways the world, yet Thou 
 Imputest sin, when I do but obey.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 157 
 
 Thou hast prepared a Way with many a Snare, Garner 
 And set with many a Prize to lure us there, (ir. 3) 
 
 And still, Oh God, 'tis said, Thou wilt not spare, 
 The Man whose Foot-steps stumble unaware. 
 
 Von allen Seiten hast Du uns mit Schlingen bedroht Bodenstedt 
 Und sprichst: wer hineinfällt, den trifft der Tod. 1 - 22 ) 
 
 Du suchst selbst uns verlockende Fallen zu stellen 
 Und strafst dann, wen sie verlockt, als Rebellen. 
 
 Auf der einen Seite hundert Fallen hast du Von Schack 
 aufgestellt, ('68) 
 
 Auf der andern drohst mit Tod du Jedem, der in 
 eine fällt. 
 
 Sprich, da du die Schlingen legtest, denen schwer 
 der Mensch entgeht, 
 
 Ziemt es dir, ihn zu bestrafen, wenn er just hinein- 
 gerät ? 
 
 In the second edition of FitzGerald (LXXXVII, 1S6S), the 
 third line has predestined and the last line ends with a question- 
 mark. 
 
 Whinfield, 224 (1882), reads: — 
 
 Thou dost with frequent snare beset the way 
 The pilgrim's wandering footsteps to betray, 
 
 And all poor wretches tangled in thy snares 
 Dost seize as prisoners and as rebels slay. 
 
 See Appendix XXXIII. 
 
 22
 
 1 5 S Rubâiydt of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald Oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make. 
 And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake: 
 
 For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man 
 Is blacken 1 d — Mart s forgiveness give — and take ! 
 
 (LXXXI.) 
 1889 
 
 (LViii.) oil, Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make, 
 ,859 And who with Eden didst devise the Snal 
 
 For all the Sin wherewith the Face of Man 
 Is blacken'd, .Man's Forgiveness give — and take ! 
 
 (i. xxxviii) oh Thou, who Man of baser Earth didst make 
 1868 And ev'n with Paradise devise (lie Snake: 
 
 For all the Sin the Face "I wret< hed Man 
 Is black with — Man's Forgiveness give — and 
 
 take! 
 
 Nicolas O toi, qui connais les secrets les plus cache's an 
 
 (236) fond du cœur de chacun, toi qui relèves de ta main 
 
 ceux qui tombent dans la détresse, donne-moi la 
 force de la renonciation et agrée mes excuses. 6 
 Dieu ! toi qui donnes cette force à tous, qui agrées 
 les excuses de tous. 
 
 McCarthy O thou who knowest man's most hidden 
 
 (49) thoughts, thou who upholdest the halt with thy 
 
 hands, give me strength to renounce, and heed my 
 
 pleading, O thou who art the strength of all men, 
 
 heed my pleading. 
 
 Whinfield O Thou! who know'st the secret thoughts of all, 
 (276) In time of sorest need who aidest all, 
 
 Grant me repentance, and accept my plea, 
 O Thou who dost accept the pleas of all !
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 159 
 
 O Du, der aller Menschen Gedanken und Herzen Bodenstedt 
 geprüft, (1. 20) 
 
 Und Jeglichen wieder erhebt, der durch Schmer- 
 zen geprüft ; 
 
 Dass Du Erhebung auch mir, der in Sünden 
 gefallen, gewährst, 
 
 Fleh' ich Dich an, o Herr! wie Du sie Allen 
 gewährst. 
 
 Professor Cowell, Fitzgerald's Persian teacher, is quoted by 
 Mr. William Aldis Wright as saying in regard to this quatrain : 
 
 " There is no original for the line about the snake : I have 
 looked for it in vain in Nicolas; but I have always supposed 
 that the last line is FitzGerald's mistaken version of quatrain 
 236 in Nicolas's edition, which runs thus : — 
 O thou who knowest the secrets of every one's mind. 
 Who çraspest every one's hand in the hour of weakness, 
 O God, give me repentance and accept my excuses, 
 O thou -who givest repentance and acee/iest the excuses of 
 
 every one. 
 Fitzgerald mistook the meaning of giving and accepting as used 
 here, and so invented the last line out of his own mistake. 1 
 wrote to him about it when I was in Calcutta ; but he never 
 cared to alter it." 
 
 Whinfield, 152 (18S2), reads: — 
 
 O Thou who hnow'st the hearts of one and all, 
 In hours of need who aidest one and all, 
 
 Grant me repentance, and accept my plea. 
 Who dost accept the pleas of one and all. 
 
 See Appendix XXXIV.
 
 i6o Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGeraid As under cover of departing Day 
 (Lxxxn.) Slunk hunger-stricken Ramazân away, 
 1889 Once more within the Potter's house alone 
 
 I stood, surrounded by the Shapes of Clav. 
 
 (LXXXIII.) Shapes of all Sorts and Sices, great and small, 
 1889 That stood along the floor and by the wall ; 
 
 Ami some loquacious vessels were j and some 
 Listen \t perhaps, but never talked at all. 
 
 (xc.) And once again there gather'd a scarce heard 
 ,868 Whisper among them; as it were, the stirr'd 
 
 Ashes of some all but extinguish! Tongue 
 Which mine ears kindled into living Word. 
 
 KÜZA NAMA. 
 (Lix.) Listen again. One Evening at the Close 
 ,S59 Of Ramazân, ere the better Moon arose, 
 In that old Potter's Shop I stood alone 
 With the clay Population round in Rows. 
 
 Nicolas Je suis entré dans l'atelier d'un potier. J'y ai vu 
 
 (431) l'ouvrier auprès de sa roue, activement occupé à 
 
 mouler des goulots et des anses de cruches, les 
 
 unes formées de têtes de rois et les autres de pieds 
 
 de mendiants. 
 
 McCarthy I passed into the potter's house of clay, and saw 
 
 (393) the craftsman busy at his wheel, turning out pots 
 
 and jars fashioned from the heads of kings, and 
 the feet of beggars.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 161 
 
 It chanced into a potter's shop I strayed, Whinfield 
 
 He turned his wheel and deftly plied his trade, ( 4 66) 
 
 And out of monarchs' heads, and beggars' feet, 
 Fair heads and handles for his pitchers made ! 
 
 I chanced a Potter at his Work to meet, Garner 
 
 While Heads and Handles for his Vessels neat, (vu. 3 ) 
 
 Upon his swiftly turning wheel he shaped; — 
 From Mouldering 
 Feet. 
 
 Einen Töpfer hab' ich beim Werke gesehen Bodenstedt 
 
 Den Krügen Hälse und Henkel zu drehen ; (X. 17) 
 
 Er nahm den Stoff zu den Thongeschöpfen 
 Aus Bettlerfüssen und Königsköpfen. 
 
 Den Töpfer in seiner Werkstatt zu grüssen, Von Schack 
 
 Heut ging ich und fand ihn bei'm Formen von ( 49 ) 
 
 Töpfen ; 
 
 Er machte die Rundung aus Bettlerfüssen, 
 Den Henkel aber aus Königsköpfen. 
 
 Kuza-Naïna means " the Book of Pots." See Rubâ'iy 
 LXXXVII; see also Appendices XIV, XXXV, and XXXVII. 
 Whinfield, 240 (1SS2), begins : — 
 
 Last night into a potter's shop I strayed, 
 
 Who turned his wheel, etc.
 
 IÖ2 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Said one among them — " Surely not in rain 
 (lxxxiv.) « My substance of the common Earth was to 1 en 
 " And to this Figure moulded, to be broke, 
 " Or trampled back to shapeless Earth again" 
 
 (I. XI.) Then said another — " Surely not in vain 
 «859 •• My Substance from the common Earth was ta'en, 
 "That He who subtly wrought me into Shape 
 " Should stamp me back to common Earth again." 
 
 (XCI.) Said one among them — " Surely not in vain 
 1868 '• My Substance from the common Earth was ta'en, 
 "That He who subtly wrought me Into Shape 
 "Should stamp me back to shapeless Earth 
 again ? " 
 
 Nicolas Lorsque mon âme et la tienne nous aurons 
 
 (349) quittés, on placera une paire de briques sur ma 
 
 tombe et la tienne. Puis, pour couvrir les tombes 
 
 des autres avec d'autres briques, dans le moule du 
 
 briquetier on jettera ma poussière et la tienne. 
 
 McCarthy When my soul and thine have flitted, they will 
 
 (363) place a couple of bricks upon my grave and thine. 
 Then to make bricks for other tombs they will 
 send to the kiln my dust and thine.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 163 
 
 When life has fled, and we rest in the tomb, "Whinfield 
 
 They '11 place a pair of bricks to mark our tomb ; (391 ) 
 
 And, a while after, mould our dust to bricks, 
 To furnish forth some other person's tomb! 
 
 Wenn Dir Deine Seele genommen wird und mir Bodenstedt 
 meine, (vm. 59 ) 
 
 Legt man auf Dein und mein Grab ein Par Steine. 
 Und später, auch andere Gräber mit Steinen zu 
 decken, 
 
 Nimmt man unsern Staub und zermalmt gar unsre 
 Gebeine. 
 
 Bald, beraubt des Lebensbaumes werden wir dort "Von Schack 
 
 unten ruh'n, (6) 
 
 Bald mit Ziegeln decken wird man dein Grab und 
 
 das meine nun ; 
 Dann, um and'rer Menschen Gräber auch mit 
 
 Ziegeln zu bedecken, 
 In den Ziegelofen wird man deinen Staub und 
 
 meinen thun. 
 
 See Appendix XXXVI.
 
 164 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGeraid Then said a Second — '• Ne \-r a peevish Boy 
 
 (I. xxxv.) '' Would break the Bowl from which lie drank in 
 
 joy, 
 " And ll< that with his hand the I 'esse/ made 
 " Will surely not in after Wrath destroy." 
 
 1 
 
 (LXii.) Another said — ' Why, ne'er a peevish Boy, 
 1859 " Would break the Howl from which he drank in 
 
 J°y ; 
 
 " Shall He that made the Vessel in pure Love 
 " And Fansy, in an after Rage destroy ! " 
 
 (XCII.) Another said, " Why, ne'er a peevish Boy 
 ,s,,s " Would break the Cup from which he drank in 
 Joy ; 
 '• Shall He that of his own free Fancy made 
 ■• The Vessel, in an after-rage destroy ! " 
 
 Nicolas 
 (38) 
 
 Qui croira jamais que celui qui a confectionné la 
 coupe puisse songer à la détruire? Toutes ces 
 helles têtes, tous ces beaux bras, toutes ces mains 
 charmantes, par quel amour ont-ils été créés, et 
 par quelle haine sont-ils détruits ? 
 
 McCarthy Who can believe that he who made the cup 
 
 (100) would dream of destroying it ? All those fair 
 
 faces, all those lovely limbs, all those enchanting 
 
 bodies, what love has made them, and what hate 
 
 destroys them ?
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 165 
 
 Behold these cups ! Can He who deigned to make Whmfield 
 them, (42) 
 
 In wanton freak let ruin overtake them, 
 
 So many shapely feet and hands and heads, — 
 
 What love drives Him to make, what wrath to 
 break them ? 
 
 What man believes that He who made the Vase Garner 
 Will sometime shatter it in Anger base ? (VIII. s) 
 
 The Maker of these weak misguided Men 
 Will surely not in Wrath His Works efface. 
 
 Wer glaubt, dass seine eigenen Geschöpfe Bodenstedt 
 
 Der Schöpfertötet ! — Diese schöne Köpfe, (in. 5 ) 
 
 Reizvollen Hand' und Füsse : schuf bethört 
 Die Liebe sie dass sie der Hass zerstört ? 
 
 Lässt es denken sich ? Derselbe, der des Bechers Von Schack 
 Schönheit schuf, (61) 
 
 Wie, ihn wieder zu zerbrechen, sagt mir, findet er 
 Beruf ? 
 
 Alle diese schönen Köpfe, alle diese zarten Glieder, 
 
 Welche Liebe hat sie erschaffen ? welcher Hass 
 zerstört sie wieder? 
 
 Whinfield, 22 (iSS2), reads : — 
 Behold these cups, he takes such pains to make them, 
 And then enraged lets ruin overtake them ; 
 
 So many shapely feet, and heads, and hands, 
 What love drives him to make, what wrath to break them ? 
 
 See Appendix XXXVI.
 
 1 66 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald After a momentary silence spake 
 (LXXXVI.) Some Vessel of a more ungainly make ; 
 l88g " Tiny sneer at me for leaning all awry : 
 
 " What! did the Hand then of the Potter 
 shake ? " 
 
 (LXIII.) 
 
 1859 
 
 None ansvver'd this ; but after Silence spake 
 A Vessel of a more ungainly Make : 
 
 " They sneer at me for leaning all awry ; 
 " What ! did the Hand then of the Totter shake ?" 
 
 Whinfield The Master did himself these vessels frame, 
 
 (126) Why should he cast them out to scorn and shame ? 
 
 If he has made them well, why should he break 
 them ? 
 Yea, though he marred them, they are not to blame. 
 
 Nicolas C'est toi qui disposes du sort des vivants et des 
 
 ( 43 6) morts; c'est toi qui gouvernes cette roue désor- 
 donnée des cieux. Bien que je sois mauvais, je ne 
 suis que ton esclave, tu es mon maître ; quel est 
 donc le coupable ici-bas? N'es-tu pas le créateur 
 de tout ? 
 
 McCarthy Thou who commandest the quick and the dead, 
 
 (344) the wheel of heaven obeys thy hand. What if I 
 
 am evil, am I not thy slave? Which then is the 
 guilty one ? Art thou not lord of all ?
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 167 
 
 Who framed the lots of quick and dead but Thou ? Whinfield 
 Who turns the troublous wheel of heaven but ( 47 i) 
 
 Thou ? 
 Though we are sinful slaves, is it for Thee 
 To blame us ? Who created us but Thou ? 
 
 Du, Herr, bist der Lenker von Leben und Tod, Bodensteüt 
 
 Es kreist Himmel und Erde nach Deinem Gebot. (il.6) 
 
 Wenn ich schlecht als Dein Sclav' bin, was kann 
 
 ich dazu ? 
 Der Schöpfer und Lenker von Allem bist Du ! 
 
 Du bist der Gebieter, du lenkst das Geschick der Von Schack 
 
 Lebenden und der Toten, ( 29 ,) 
 
 Das rollende Rad des Himmels kreis't allein nach 
 
 deinen Geboten ; 
 Wohl bin ich schlecht; doch schaltest du mit 
 
 mir nach deinem Gefallen? 
 Kann Einer schuldig auf Erden sein? Bist du 
 
 nicht der meister von Allen ? 
 
 The first line in the third edition of Fitzgerald (XCIII, 
 1S68) reads : — 
 
 None answered this ; but after silence spake. 
 Whinfield, 242 (1SS2), reads : — 
 
 Who framed the lots of quick and dead but T/iotc ? 
 Who turns the wheel of baleful fate but Thou ? 
 
 We are Thy slaves, our wills are not our own, 
 We are Thy creatures, our creator Thou ! 
 
 Whinfield, 52 (1SS2), is as follows : — 
 
 The potter did himself these vessels frame, 
 
 What makes him cast them out to scorn and shame ? 
 
 If he has made them well, why should he break them? 
 And though he marred them, they arc not to blame.
 
 i68 Rut 'ai) at oj Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Whereat some one of the loquacious Lot — 
 (Lxxxvn.) f think a Sûfi pipkin - waxing hoi — 
 
 0(J Ci ./// this of J'ot and Potter — Tell me then, 
 
 1009 j 
 
 " Who is the Potter, pray, and who the Pot? " 
 
 (LX.) And, strange to tell, among that Earthen Lot 
 
 1859 Some could articulate, while others not: 
 
 And suddenly one mure impatient cried — 
 " Who is the Totter, pray, and who the Pot?" 
 
 (XCIV.) Thus with the Dead as with the Living, What? 
 ,368 And Why? so ready, hut the Where/or not. 
 
 One on a sudden peevishly exclaim'd, 
 " Which is the Potter, pray, and which the Pot?" 
 
 Nicolas Hier, j'ai visité l'atelier d'un potier; j'y ai vu 
 
 (24.5) deux milles cruches, les unes parlant, les autres 
 
 silencieuses. Chacunes (Telles semblait me dire: 
 
 " Où est donc le potier ? Où est l'acheteur de 
 
 cruches? Où en est le vendeur?'' 
 
 McCarthy Yesterday I visited the workshop of a potter: 
 
 (i, 5 ) there I beheld two thousand pots, some speaking, 
 
 and some holding their peace. Each one seemed 
 
 to say to me, " Where is then the potter, where the 
 
 buyer of pots, where the seller ? " 
 
 M. K. To a potter's shop, yestreen, I did repair ; 
 
 Two thousand dumb or chattering pots were there. 
 All turned to me, and asked with speech distinct : 
 "Who is't that makes, that buys, that sells our 
 ware ? "
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 169 
 
 Once in a potter's shop, a company "Whinfield 
 
 Of cups in converse did I chance to see, ( 2S » 
 
 And lo ! one lifted up his voice, and cried, 
 - Who made, who sells, who buys this crockery ?" 
 
 Last Night into a Potter's Shop I strayed, Garner 
 
 Where Jars and Pots a many were displayed, (XI. 4) 
 
 And All cried out : where is the Potter now, 
 And those who bought and sold, where are they 
 laid ? 
 
 Bei einem Töpfer sah ich gestern zweitausend Bodenstedt 
 Krüge, (IV. .6) 
 
 Die einen stumm, die andern redend, als ob jeder 
 f rüge : 
 
 Wer hat uns geformt und wo stammen wir her ? 
 
 Wer ist hier der Käufer, und der Verkäufer, wer? 
 
 Gestern in des Töpfers Werkstatt sah ich hundert Von Schack 
 
 Kruge steh'n (226) 
 
 Und mir war, durch ihre Reihen hört' ich ein 
 
 Geflüster geh'n : 
 " Selber war ich einst ein Töpfer. — Ich, zum 
 
 Kruge jetzt verwandelt, 
 Einst von dir, dem Warenhändler, hab' ich Krüge 
 
 eingehandelt." 
 
 The second and third lines of Whinfield, 1 56 (18S2), read : — 
 Of goodly cups and jars I did espy 
 
 And when they saw me one cried out and said. 
 
 See Rubaiyât LXXX1I and LXXXIII 
 
 For FitzGerald's note (24), see Appendix XXXVII. 
 
 The note No. (22) is missing in FitzGerald LX, 1S59.
 
 170 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 
 
 FitzGerald " Why" said another, " Some there are who tell 
 (LXXXVIII.) « Of one who threatens he will toss to Hell 
 
 l88 9 " The luckless Pots he marr\i in making — Pish ! 
 
 " He's a Good Fellow, and ' t will all be well." 
 
 (LXIV.) Said one — " Folks of a surly Tapster tell, 
 1859 "And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell; 
 
 " They talk of some strict Testing of us — Pish ! 
 " He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well." 
 
 (XCV.) Said one — " Folks of a surly Master tell, 
 1868 "And daub his Visage with the Smoke of 1 1 ell ; 
 
 " They talk of some sharp Trial of us — Pish ! 
 " He's a good Fellow, and 'twill all be well." 
 
 Nicolas On dit qu'au jour dernier il y aura des pour- 
 
 ('78) parlers, et que cet ami chéri (Dieu) se mettra en 
 
 colère. Mais de la bonté même il ne peut émaner 
 
 que le bien. Sois donc sans crainte, car à la fin tu 
 
 le verras plein de douceur. 
 
 McCarthy It is said that there will be judgment at the last 
 
 U8") day, and that the beloved Friend will be enraged. 
 
 But from the eternal Goodness, good alone can 
 
 proceed. Fear not, therefore, for thou shalt find 
 
 mercy at the last.
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 171 
 
 They say, when the last trump shall sound its knell, Whinfield 
 Our Friend will sternly judge, and doom to hell. ^' 93 ' 
 
 Can aught but good from perfect goodness come ? 
 Compose your trembling hearts, 'twill all be well. 
 
 Gerichte (II. 3) 
 
 Und der Herr wird erscheinen mit zornigem 
 
 Gesichte 
 Doch vom Allmächtigen kann nichts kommen als 
 
 Gutes, 
 Darum fürchte Dich nicht, sondern sei guten 
 
 Mutes ! 
 
 Mann sagt : am jüngsten Tag dereinst wird streng Von Schack 
 
 Gericht gehalten (75) 
 
 Und droben unser Freund wirft dann voll Zorn die 
 
 Stirn in Falten. 
 Doch kann wer gut ist Böses thun? Wie lässt 
 
 sich das verbinden ? 
 Sei ohne Sorge nur ! zuletzt wirst du ihn huldvoll 
 
 finden. 
 
 See Appendices XXXIII and XXXVIII.
 
 172 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald " Well" murmur 'ä one, " Let whoso make or buy, 
 (LXXXix.) "My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry : 
 1889 " Hut Jill me with the old familiar Juice, 
 
 " Methinks I might recover by and by." 
 
 (F,xv.) Then said another with a Long-drawn Sigh, 
 1859 •' My Clay with lung oblivion is gone dry : 
 
 '• Hut, fill me with the old Eamiliar Juice, 
 " Methinks 1 might recover by-and-bye ! " 
 
 (XCVl.) Well said another, " Whoso will, let try, 
 1868 " My Clay with long Oblivion is gone dry: 
 
 " but, fill nie with the old familiar Juice, 
 " Methinks I might recover by-and-bye." 
 
 Nicolas Lorsque, la tête renversée, je serai tombé aux 
 
 (290) pieds de la mort; lorsque cet ange destructeur 
 
 m'aura réduit à l'état d'un oiseau déplumé, alors 
 gardez-vous de faire de ma poussière autre chose 
 qu'un flacon, car peut-être le parfum du vin qu'il 
 contiendra me fera-t-il revivre un instant. 
 
 McCarthy When the day arriveth, when, with my head 
 
 (125) thrown back, I fall at the feet of death, when the 
 
 destroying angel shall have made me like unto a 
 bird without feathers ; oh, then, see thou that of my 
 dust a wine-flagon is formed — for who can say but 
 that the odour of the wine may re-inform my clay ?
 
 Rubaiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 173 
 
 When Fate, at her foot, a broken wreck shall fling M. K. 
 
 me, 
 And when Fate's hand, a poor plucked fowl shall 
 
 wring me ; 
 Beware, of my clay, aught else than a bowl to 
 
 make, 
 That the scent of the wine new life in time may 
 
 bring me ! 
 
 When Death shall tread me clown upon the plain, Whinfield 
 And pluck my feathers, and my life-blood drain, ( 330 ) 
 
 Then mould me to a cup, and fill with wine ; 
 Haply its scent will make me breathe again. 
 
 Sink' ich häuptlings dem Engel des Todes zu Bodenstedt 
 Füssen, (VII. 6) 
 
 Wie ein gerupfter Vogel mein Leben zu büssen, 
 
 So macht eine Weinflasche aus meinem Staube; 
 
 Vielleicht belebt mich dann wieder der Geist der 
 Traube. 
 
 Einst werden zu Staube meine Glieder, Von Schack 
 
 Der Staub wird zu Krügen verwandelt sein ; (309) 
 
 Doch, füllt man diese Krüge mit Wein, 
 
 Aufleben werd' ich vor Freude wieder. 
 
 The first two lines of Whinfield, 175 (1S82), read : — 
 When death has trod to dit si my lifeless brain, 
 And shed my lively plumage on the plain. 
 
 See Appendix XXXIX. 
 
 2 3
 
 174 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâtn. 
 
 FitzGerald So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, 
 (XC.) fji e little Moon look'd in that all were seeking: 
 1889 j{ nc i then they jogged each other, " Brother ! 
 
 Brother / 
 " Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creaking! " 
 
 (LXVI.) So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, 
 l8 59 One spied the little Crescent all were seeking: 
 
 And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! 
 Brother ! 
 " Hark to the Porter's Shoulder-knot a-creakine: ! " 
 
 (XCVII.) So while the Vessels one by one were speaking, 
 1868 One spied the little Crescent all were seeking 25 
 
 And then they jogg'd each other, Brother! 
 Brother ! 
 " Now for the Porter's shoulder-knot a-creaking ! " 
 
 Whinfield Now Ramazân is past, Shawwâl comes back, 
 (218) And feast and song and joy no more we lack ; 
 
 The wine-skin carriers throng the streets and cry, 
 " Here comes the porter with his precious pack."
 
 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyâm, 175 
 
 FitzGerald says in his note (25) : — 
 
 " At the Close of the Fasting Month, Ramazan (which makes 
 the Mussulman unhealthy and unamiable), the first Glimpse of 
 the New Moon (who rules their division of the Year) is looked 
 for with the utmost Anxiety, and hailed with Acclamation. 
 Then it is that the Porter's Knot may be heard — toward the 
 Cellar. Omar has elsewhere a pretty Quatrain about the same 
 Moon : — 
 
 " Be of Good Cheer — the sullen Month will die, 
 " And a young Moon requite us by and by : 
 
 " Look how the Old one meagre, bent, and wan 
 " With Age and Fast, is fainting from the Sky ! " 
 In the note to the first edition there is no dash, the word 
 Cellar is followed by "perhaps"; and Omar bears the epithet 
 Old. 
 
 Compare the last half of Nicolas, 94 : — 
 Livre-toi à la joie, car ce même clair de lune éclairera bien 
 longtemps encore (après nous) la surface de la terre. 
 
 McCarthy 47 : — 
 
 Give thyself up to joy, for this same moon will illumine long 
 after us the face of the earth. 
 
 FitzGerald was capable of kindling from such a meagre, bent, 
 and wan original an inspiration like that in the note. 
 
 Von Schack, 306, may possibly be only a translation from 
 FitzGerald : — 
 
 Schon naht der neue Mond, der tr'ostungsreich 
 
 Der langen Fasten Ende uns verkündet; 
 Sieh ! wie der alte mager, matt und bleich 
 
 Von Nüchternheit dort hin am Himmel schwindet ' 
 
 See Appendix XXXV for Rubaiyät referring to Ramazân.
 
 176 Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide ; 
 
 (XCi.) And wash the Body whence the Life has died, 
 1SS9 And lay me, shrouded in the living Leaf, 
 
 By some not unfrequented Garden-side. 
 
 (LXVll.) Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, 
 1859 And wash my Body whence the Life has died, 
 
 And in the Windingsheet of Vine-leaf wrapt, 
 So bury me by some sweet Garden-side. 
 
 A 
 
 Nicolas O mes chers compagnons ! versez-moi du vin, et 
 
 (109) par ce moyen rendez à mon visage, jaune comme 
 
 l'ambre, la couleur du rubis. Quand je serai mort, 
 
 lavez-moi dans du vin, et du bois de la vigne qu'on 
 
 fasse mon brancard et mon cercueil ! 
 
 McCarthy Oh, my dear companions, pour me wine to make 
 
 (154) my countenance clear with the colour of rubies. 
 
 When I am dead, wash me in wine, and make my 
 litter and my coffin of the wood of the vine. 
 
 M. K. Let wine, gay comrades, be the food I 'm fed 
 
 upon ; — 
 These amber cheeks its ruby light be shed upon ! 
 Wash me in 't, when I die ; — and let the trees 
 Of my vineyard yield the bier that I lie dead upon ! 
 
 Whinfield Comrades ! I pray you, physic me with wine, 
 (, 39 ) Make this wan amber face like rubies shine, 
 
 ( 76 l8 g 2 ) And, if 1 die, use wine to wash my corpse, 
 
 And frame my coffin out of planks of vine !
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 177 
 
 Oh that my Face the Brightness of this Wine Garner 
 
 Might borrow, and when dead, this Clay of mine, — (V. 10) 
 
 I pray Thee wash it with the Grape, then make 
 My Coffin of the tendrils of the vine. 
 
 O teure Genossen vom Trinkerorden, Bodenstedt 
 
 Gelb wie Bernstein ist mein Antlitz geworden, (IX. 67) 
 
 Bringt Wein, um es wieder zu beleben 
 
 Und den Wangen gesunde Röte zu geben. 
 Und leg' ich mich einst zum Sterben nieder, 
 
 So wascht mit rotem Wein meine Glieder ; 
 Das Holz des Weinstocks diene zur Truhe, 
 
 So lasst mich tragen zur ewigen Ruhe. 
 
 Ihr Freunde! füllt mir den Becher mit Wein, Von Schack 
 
 damit mein Herz nicht darbe ! (275) 
 
 Schafft meinem blassen Gesicht durch den Wein 
 
 von Neuem Rubinenfarbe, 
 Und, wenn Ihr in Wein gewaschen mich habt, nach 
 
 meinen letzten Geboten, 
 In einem Sarge von Rebenholz bestattet dereinst 
 
 den Toten ! 
 
 The second edition of FitzGerald (XCVIII, 1S6S) is the 
 same, except for the 2d line, which reads : — 
 
 And wash my body whence the Life has died. 
 
 See Appendix XL. 
 
 In the second edition (1S6S) of FitzGerald the above quatrain 
 was followed by one numbered XCIX, afterwards expunged; 
 its prototype is unknown : — 
 
 Whither resorting from the vernal Heat 
 
 Shall Old Acquaintance Old Acquaintance greet, 
 
 Under the Branch that leans above the l\ all 
 To shed his Blossom over head and feet.
 
 178 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 PitzGerald TJiat ev'n my buried Ashes such a snare 
 (XCll.) Of Vintage shall fling up into the Air 
 1889 As not a True-believer passing by 
 
 I) i/t shall be overtaken unaware. 
 
 (Lxviii.) That ev'n my buried Ashes such a Snare 
 l8 59 Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air, 
 
 As not a True Believer passing by 
 But shall be overtaken unaware. 
 
 Nicolas Je veux boire tant et tant de vin que l'odeur 
 
 (m) puisse en sortir de terre quand j'y serai rentré, et 
 
 que les buveurs à moitié ivres de la veille qui 
 
 viendront visiter ma tombe puissent, par l'effet seul 
 
 de cette odeur, tomber ivres-morts. 
 
 McCarthy I wish to drink so deep, so deep of wine that its 
 
 (27) fragrance may hang about the soil where I shall 
 
 sleep, and that revellers, still dizzy from last night's 
 
 wassail, shall on visiting my tomb, from its very 
 
 perfume fall dead drunk. 
 
 Whinfield So many cups of wine will I consume, 
 
 O7) Its bouquet shall exhale from out my tomb, 
 
 And every one that passes by shall halt. 
 And reel and stagger with that mighty fume.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 179 
 
 Such Homage to the Cup I e'er will pay, Garner 
 
 That when my Body in the Ground they lay, (I. 16) 
 
 The Odor of my Wine will overcome 
 All those who happen by my Tomb to stray. 
 
 So will ich berauscht sein von geistiger Labe, 
 Dass der Wohlgeruch mich überlebt im Grabe, 
 Und nur Halbberauschte an meiner Gruft 
 Ganz trunken hinsinken, berauscht vom Duft. 
 
 Bodenstedt 
 
 (IX. 4 .) 
 
 So viel will ich trinken, dass einst der Duft 
 Des Weines noch steigt aus meiner Gruft 
 Und die Zecher, die hin zu dem Grabe wallen, 
 Verauscht von dem Dufte zu Boden fallen. 
 
 Von Schack 
 
 (98) 
 
 See Appendix XLI. 
 
 Nicolas says : — 
 
 Ce quatrain, qu'on serait tenté de considérer comme essen- 
 tiellement épicurien, s'il ne sortait de la plume de Khèyam, 
 est cependant allégorique et se rapporte à Dieu. Notre poëte 
 veut être entièrement absorbé dans V amour divin, et servir 
 d'exemple a ceux qui reste?it après lui; il veut que, comme 
 lui, méprisant les choses mondaines, ils se livrent corps et âme 
 à la seule chose ici-bas digne de préoccuper un esprit sage, à 
 la Divinité. 
 
 It must not be forgotten that Omar was a wit, and that Nico- 
 las, who causes a nightingale to speak " in language appropriate 
 to the circumstances," was deficient in that divine quality. The 
 seriousness of Nicolas's interpretation only haltingly accords 
 with the extravagant humor of the conceit.
 
 i8o Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald Indeed the Idols I have loved so long 
 
 (XCIII.) Have done my credit in this World much wrong, 
 1889 Have drown d my Glory in a shallow Cup, 
 
 And sold my reputation for a Song. 
 
 (i. xix.) Indeed the Idols I have loved so long 
 l8 S9 Have done my Credit in Men's Eye much wrong: 
 
 Have drown'd my Honour in a shallow Cup, 
 And sold my Reputation tor a Song. 
 
 Nicolas 
 (-42 
 
 Une fois dans la taverne on ne peut faire ses 
 ablutions qu'avec du vin. Là, quand un nom est 
 souillé, il ne saurait être réhabilité. Apporte donc 
 du vin, puisque le voile de notre pudeur est déchiré 
 de manière à ne pouvoir être réparé. 
 
 McCarthy Once thou art in the tavern, thou canst only 
 
 ( 2S 7) make thy ablutions with wine. When thy name 
 
 hath once been befouled there, thou canst not again 
 cleanse it. Bring hither the wine therefore, since 
 the covering of our shame hath been torn beyond 
 repair. 
 
 Whinfield Needs must the tavern-haunter bathe in wine, 
 (165) p or none can make a tarnished name to shine ; 
 
 Go ! bring me wine, for none can now restore 
 Its pristine sheen to this soiled veil of mine.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 181 
 
 In der Schenke macht man seine Waschungen mit Bodenstedt 
 Wein, (IX. 74) 
 
 Doch ein befleckter Ruf wird dort nicht wieder 
 rein ; 
 
 Wir erfuhren das selber längst ohne Überraschung ; 
 
 Bringt Wein her, wir fahren fort in der Waschung ! 
 
 Hier in der Schenke, mit Wein allein wird hier die Von Schack 
 Waschung gehalten, ( 2 79) 
 
 Verloren bin ich nun doch einmal ; so bleib' es denn 
 auch bei'm Alten ! 
 
 Bring Wein ! bring Wein ! der Scham und der 
 Scheu hab' ich mich doch entledigt, 
 
 Und meinen Ruf stellt nichts mehr her, er ist zu 
 tief geschädigt. 
 
 Line 2 in FitzGerald's 2d edition (CI, 1868) reads ; — 
 Have done my credit in Men' 1 s eye much wrongs 
 See Appendix XLII ; also Rubâiyât in Preface.
 
 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald 
 (XC1V.) 
 
 iSSg 
 (LXX.) 
 
 i859 
 
 McCarthy 
 (,2) 
 
 Whinfleld 
 
 (42s) 
 
 Nicolas 
 (133) 
 
 McCarthy 
 (255) 
 
 Indeed, indeed. Repentance oft before 
 I swore — but was I sober when J swore f 
 And then and then came Spring, and Rose-in- 
 
 hand 
 My thread-bare Penitence apieces tore. 
 
 Every morn I say this shall be the night of 
 repentance, repentance from the flagon, and from 
 the bowl brimming over, repentance. Yet now 
 that the season of roses has come set me free in 
 the time of the rose from repentance, O Lord of 
 repentance. 
 
 Each morn I say, "To-night I will repent 
 Of wine, and tavern haunts no more frequent ; " 
 But while 't is spring, and roses are in bloom, 
 To loose me from my promise, O consent ! 
 
 Compare also : 
 
 Ne renonces pas à boire du vin, si tu en possèdes, 
 car cent repentirs suivent une pareille résolution. Les 
 roses déchirent leurs corolles, les rossignols remplissent 
 l'air de leurs chants, serait-il raisonnable de renoncer à 
 boire dans un semblable moment ? 
 
 Do not forswear the juice of the vine if you have any 
 store thereof. For many a repenting sign will follow 
 such a sacrifice. The roses shed their petals, the night- 
 ingales cast their songs abroad upon the air: would it 
 be wise in such an hour to forswear the flagon ?
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 183 
 
 Lorsque ma nature m'a paru disposée à la prière et Nicolas 
 au jeûne, j'ai un instant espéré que j'allais atteindre (162) 
 
 le but de tous mes désirs ; mais, hélas ! un vent a suffi 
 pour détruire l'efficacité de mes ablutions, et une demi- 
 gorgée de vin est venue mettre à néant mon jeûne. 
 
 What time my being seemed to lean to prayer and McCarthy- 
 fasting, I deemed for a moment that I was about to (,i 3 ) 
 touch the goal of my desires ; but, alas, a breath has 
 sufficed to destroy the efficacy of my ablutions, and a 
 half measure of wine has set my fasts aside. 
 
 Zu Fasten fühlt' ich und zu Gebet mich jüngst gedrängt Von Schack 
 
 und dachte : vielleicht ( 2? S) 
 
 Wird nun das ewige Heil von mir, nach dem ich seit 
 
 lang mich gesehnt, erreicht ; 
 Allein ein Windhauch hat das Gebet alsbald mir auf 
 
 den Lippen verweht, 
 Ein halber Weinschluck, eh' ich's gedacht, mein Fasten 
 
 all zu nichte gemacht. 
 
 See Appendix XLIII.
 
 184 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald And much as Wine has play 'd the Infidel, 
 (XCV.) And robb 'd me of my Robe of Honour — Well, 
 1889 j wonder often what the Vintners buy 
 
 One half so precious as the stuff they sell. 
 
 (Lxxi.) And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, 
 ' 8 59 And robb'd me of my Robe of Honour — well, 
 I often wonder what the Vintners buy 
 One half so precious as the Goods they sell. 
 
 (CHI.) And much as Wine has play'd the Infidel, 
 
 And robbed me of my Robe of Honour — well, 
 
 I often wonder what the Vintners buy 
 One half so precious as the ware they sell. 
 
 Nicolas Depuis le jour où Vénus et la lune apparurent 
 
 (463) dans le ciel, personne n'a rien vu ici-bas de pré- 
 férable au vin en rubis. Je suis vraiment étonné 
 de voir les marchands de vin, car que peuvent-ils 
 acheter de supérieur à ce qu'ils vendent? 
 
 M - K - Since the Moon and the Star of Eve first shone on 
 
 high, 
 Naught has been known with ruby Wine could 
 vie : 
 Strange, that the vintners should in traffic deal ! 
 Better than what they sell, what could they buy?
 
 Rubdiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 185 
 
 While Moon and Venus in the sky shall dwell, Whinfield 
 
 None shall see aught red grape-juice to excel: ( 2o8 ) 
 
 O foolish publicans, what can you buy 
 One half so precious as the goods you sell ? 
 
 Since Venus and the Moon have cheered the Sky, Garner 
 Naught have Men seen with Purple Wine to vie ; (VI. 14) 
 
 What half so precious as this sparkling Juice, 
 Can these same thoughtless Vintners buy ? 
 
 Seit der Mond und Venus am Himmel stehn, Bodenstedt 
 
 Ward auf Erden nicht Edleres als Wein gesehn. ( lX - 3) 
 
 Der Weinhändler ist ein erstaunlicher Mann, 
 Da er Bessres verkauft als er kaufen kann. 
 
 The first two lines of Whinfield, 115 (1882), read : — 
 While moon and constant stars in heaven dwell, 
 No starlike ruby can bright wine excel ; 
 
 See Appendix XLIV.
 
 i86 Rubàiyàt <>f Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGeraid Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose! 
 (XÇV1 ) ThatYouth's sweet-scented manuscript should dose ! 
 i88q ^ l€ Nightingale tltat in tin- brain Ins sang, 
 
 Ah whence, and whither flown again, who know* ' 
 
 (i.xxii.) Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose ! 
 
 That Youth's sweet-scented Manuscript should 
 close ! 
 The Nightingale that in the Branches sang, 
 Ah, whence, and whither Sown again, who knows! 
 
 M - K - Ah! that young Life should close its volume bright 
 
 away ! 
 Mirth's springtime green, that it should pass from 
 sight away ! 
 Ah ! for the Bird of Joy whose name is Youth : 
 We know not when she came, nor when took flight 
 away '. 
 
 Now is the volume of my youth outworn, 
 And all my spring-tide blossoms rent and torn. 
 Ah, bird of youth ! I marked not when you 
 came, 
 Nor when you fled, and left me thus forlorn. 
 
 My Manuscript of Youth has dusty grown, 
 The Roses of My Spring will soon be blown, 
 
 The joyful Bird of Youth that hovered near, — 
 I know not Whence it came, nor Whither flown. 
 
 Von Schack Nun ist der Lenz geschwunden mit der Rose, 
 (62) Der Jugend schönes Buch zu Ende schon ; 
 
 Die Nachtigall mit ihrem Liedgekose 
 
 Wo kam sie her ? wohin ist sie entfloh'n ? 
 
 Whinfleld 
 (■55) 
 
 Garner 
 (VII. 6)
 
 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyàm. 1S7 
 
 Compare also : — 
 
 Hélas ! le décret de notre adolescence, touche à son Nicolas 
 terme ! Le frais printemps de nos plaisirs s'est écoulé ! (l28) 
 
 Cet oiseau de la gaieté qui s'appelle la jeunesse, hélas', 
 je ne sais ni quand il est venu, ni quand il s'est envolé. 
 
 Alas, the season of my youth decays, the kindly Spring McCarthy 
 of our delights goes by, and that delightful bird, whose ( 223 ) 
 
 name is Youth, has flown. It came, I know not whence, 
 and goes, I know not whither. 
 
 Ach, des Lebens Mai naht dem Ziele, 
 
 Vorbei sind die Freuden und Spiele ! 
 Dieser Vogel der Fröhlichkeit 
 
 Genannt die Jugendzeit, 
 Schwang fort sein Gefieder, 
 
 Und kommt nicht wieder! 
 Ich weiss nicht, wann er gekommen, — 
 
 Und wohin den Weg er genommen. 
 
 Bodenstedt 
 (VI. 4) 
 
 Schon schwindet mein Leben nach und nach ; Von Schack 
 
 Der blühende Frühling der Freuden, im Welken ist er ( l82 ) 
 
 schon ; 
 î »as muntere Vöglein Jugend, ach ! 
 
 Nicht weiss ich, wie es gekommen, noch wie es plötz- 
 lich entfloh 'n. 
 
 Whinfield, 86 (1882), has, in line 2, springtide's blossoms 
 lines 2 and 3 read, how you came, Nor how you fled. 
 See Rubâ'iy VII, p. 14.
 
 [SS 
 
 Rubàiyât oj Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield 
 (XCVII.) One glimfse if dimly, yet indeed, reveafd, 
 «88g p w hüh the fainting Traveller might spring, 
 
 As springs the trampled herbage oj the field I 
 
 (CV.) Would but the Desert of the Fountain yield 
 1868 One glimpse it dimly, yet indeed reveal'd 
 
 Toward which the fainting Traveller might 
 spring, 
 As springs the trampled herbage of the field ! 
 
 Nicolas Oh ! plût à Dieu qu'il existât un lieu de n pos, 
 
 (400) q Ue l e chemin (pie nous suivons y pût aboutir. 
 
 Plût a Dieu qu'après cent raille ans nous pussions 
 
 concevoir l'espérance de renaître du cœur de la 
 
 terre, comme renaît le vert gazon ! 
 
 McCarthy -Oh, would that there were a place to rest, that 
 (440) by this road we might arrive : oh, that after a 
 
 hundred thousand years we might arise anew from 
 the heart of the earth like the green grasses. 
 
 Whinfield Ah ! would there were a place of rest from pain, 
 (442) Which we, poor pilgrims, might at last attain, 
 
 And after many thousand wintry years. 
 Renew our life, like flowers, and bloom again !
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 189 
 
 O wollte Gott, es gab' einen Ort voll Frieden, Bodenstedt 
 
 Und wir fänden den richtigen Weg schon hie- (V 36) 
 
 nieden ! . 
 Wollte Gott, wir könnten einst aus dem Staube 
 Auferstehen gleich dem frischen Rasen und 
 
 Laube ! 
 
 O fände irgendwo das Herz nur eine Ankerstätte! Von Schack 
 O dass der Mensch zum mindesten die Eine ('70) 
 
 Aussicht hätte, 
 Einst - möchten bis dahin auch zehn Jahrtausende 
 
 verfliesen — 
 Gleich diesem Rasen neu dem Schoss der Erde 
 
 zu entspriessen. 
 
 Whinfield, 229 (1SS2), has no commas separating poor 
 
 pilgrims, and the last line begins, Renew our youth. 
 
 24
 
 iço Rubàiyàt of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGeraid Would but some winged Angel ere too late 
 (xcv 1 1 1 .) A rrest the yet unfolded Roll of Fate, 
 1889 And make the stern Recorder otherwise 
 
 Enregister, or quite obliterate ! 
 
 (cvi.) Oh if the World were but to re-create, 
 1868 That we might catch ere closed the Book of Kate, 
 
 And make The Writer on a fairer leaf 
 Inscribe our names, or quite obliterate ! 
 
 Nicolas Je voudrais que Dieu reconstruisît le monde, je 
 
 (457) voudrais qu'il le reconstruisît actuellement, pour 
 ce que je pusse voir Dieu à l'œuvre. Je voudrais 
 qu'il effaçât mon nom du bulletin de la vie, ou que 
 de son trésor mystérieux il augmentât mes moyens 
 d'existence. 
 
 McCarthy I would that God rebuilt the world anew, and 
 
 (44*) that I might see the work begun. I would that 
 God blotted my name from the roll of life, or of 
 his bounty made life seem more fair. 
 
 M. K. 
 
 I would God were this whole world's scheme 
 renewing, 
 
 — And now ! at once ! that I might see it doing ! 
 That either from His roll my name were can- 
 celled, 
 
 Or luckier days for me from Heaven accruing !
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 191 
 
 I wish that Allah would rebuild these skies, "Whinfield 
 
 And earth, and that at once, before my eyes, (486) 
 
 And either raze my name from off his roll, 
 Or else relieve my dire necessities. 
 
 Ich wollte, Gott schüfe die Welt auf's Neu', Bodenstedt 
 
 Gleich jetzt ; dann bat' ich ihn ohne Scheu : ( x - 3 1 ) 
 
 Mich ganz aus dem Buche des Lebens zu streichen, 
 Oder mir bessere Mittel zum Leben zu reichen. 
 
 Schüfe Gott die Welt auf's Neu doch, dass sie Von Schack 
 nicht der jetz'gen gliche ! (238) 
 
 Möcht' er doch mich zuschau'n lassen, dass ich 
 sähe wie er's macht ! 
 O dass in des Lebens Buche dann er meinen 
 Namen striche, 
 Oder bess'res Los mir gönnte, als er jetzt mir 
 zugedacht ! 
 
 Whinfield, 251 (1SS2), reads: — 
 
 Allah ! rebuild flic world in fairer guise, 
 And do it on the spot before my eyes, 
 
 And either raze my name from Thy roll 
 Or make me better, happier, more wise.
 
 1 92 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Ah Love', could 'you and 1 with Him am spire 
 (XCIX.) To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, 
 1889 Would not we shatter it to bits — and then 
 
 Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's desire ! 
 
 (LXXill.) Ah Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire 
 ■859 To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire, 
 Would not we shatter it to bits — and then 
 Re-mould it nearer to the Heart's Desire ! 
 
 Nicolas Si je possédais sur les cieux la puissance que 
 
 (340) Dieu y exerce, je les supprimerais de ce monde, et 
 
 j'en construirais d'autres à ma façon, ahn que 
 
 l'homme libre pût ici-bas atteindre sans difficulté 
 
 les désirs de son cœur. 
 
 McCarthy If I, like God, were master of the heavens, I 
 
 (378) would blot them from the world, and fashion new 
 skies beneath which free man might gain his 
 heart's desire. 
 
 M. K. If I like God o'er Heaven's high fate could reign, 
 
 I 'd sweep away the present Heaven's domain, 
 
 And from its ruins such a new one build 
 That an honest heart its wish could aye attain !
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyàm. 193 
 
 Had I the power great Allah to advise, Whinfield 
 
 I 'd bid him sweep away this earth and skies, (379) 
 
 And build a better, where, unclogged and free, 
 The clear soul might achieve her high emprise. 
 
 Oh that to Heaven's Control I might aspire, Garner 
 
 And sweep away this Universe Entire, (II- 8) 
 
 Then from the Ruins build another World, 
 Where Man might sometimes reach his Heart's 
 Desire. 
 
 Könnt' ich walten wie Gott im Himmelszelt, Bodenstedt 
 
 Ich hätt' es schon längst auf den Kopf gestellt, ( v - 25) 
 
 Um ein andres zu bauen, wie ich es verstehe, 
 Welches ganz nach den Wünschen der Menschen 
 sich drehe. 
 
 Wenn Gott die Macht, die selbst er hat, mir Von Schack 
 gönnte, (") 
 
 Die jetz'ge Welt würd' ich alsbald vernichten, 
 
 Und eine andere daraus errichten, 
 Darin der Mensch nach Wunsche leben könnte. 
 
 The first line of FitzGerald's second edition (CVIII, 1S6S) 
 reads : — 
 
 Ah Love ! could you and I with fate conspire. 
 
 Whinfield, 200 (1882), reads: Had I the right . . . I 
 would bid . . . The clear soul might essay her high emprise.
 
 194 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Yon rising Moon that looks for us again — 
 (C.) How oft hereafter will she wax and -cane ; 
 
 18S9 How oft lie re after rising look for us 
 
 Through this sann Garden — and for one in vain ? 
 
 (LXXIV.) Ah, Moon of ray Delight who know'st no wane, 
 ,859 The Moon of Heav'n is rising once again : 
 
 How oft hereafter rising shall she look 
 Through this same Garden after me — in vain ! 
 
 (Cix.) But see ! The rising Moon of Heav'n again 
 1868 Looks for us, Sweet-heart, through the quivering 
 
 Plane : 
 How oft hereafter rising will she look 
 Amonç those leaves — for one of us in vain ! 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (8) 
 
 Puisque personne ne saurait te répondre du jour 
 de demain, empresse-toi de réjouir ton cœur plein 
 de tristesse; bois, ô lune adorable ! bois dans une 
 coupe vermeille, car la lune du firmament tournera 
 bien longtemps (autour de la terre), sans nous y 
 retrouver. 
 
 McCarthy Since no man dares play prophet for to-morrow, 
 
 (9) hasten to lift thy heavy-laden heart. Drain, O de- 
 
 lightful Moon, a crimson cup, for heaven's moon 
 will turn a weary while and fail to find us. 
 
 M. K. Since none can be our surety for to-morrow, 
 
 Sweeten, my love, thy heart to-day from sorrow : 
 
 Drink wine, fair Moon, in wine-light, for the moon 
 Will come again, and miss us, many a morrow !
 
 Rubàiyât of Omar Khayyam. 195 
 
 Since no one can assure thee of the morrow, Whinfield 
 
 Rejoice thy heart to-day, and banish sorrow ( 7 ) 
 
 With moonbright wine, fair moon, for heaven's 
 moon 
 Will look for us in vain on many a morrow. 
 
 Ah, since the Future's Riddles none can guess. Garner 
 Come fill the Cup, the Cup that drowns Distress, (V. 8) 
 
 Ah, Love, yon Moon will often rise again, 
 Will rise and miss us in Her loneliness. 
 
 To-morrow rank and fame for none may be, (3) 
 
 So for to-day thy weary soul set free ; 
 
 Drink with me, love, once more beneath the 
 moon ; 
 She oft may shine again, but not on thee and me. 
 
 Da die Tage uns'res Lebens rasch und unauf- Von Schack 
 
 haltsam schwinden, ( g 6) 
 
 Da, ob morgen noch wir atmen, keiner uns vermag 
 
 zu künden, 
 Lass, o du mein Mond, uns froh sein ! Ach der 
 
 Mond da droben wird 
 Oft noch um die Erde kreisen, ohne uns auf ihr zu 
 
 finden ! 
 
 Line 3 of Whinfield, 2 (1SS2), begins : With sparkling wine. 
 See Appendix I.
 
 196 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 PitzGerald And when like her, oh Sâki,you shall pass 
 (CI.) Among the Guests Star-scatter 'd on the Grass, 
 j889 And in your joyous errand reach the spot 
 
 Where I made One — turn down an empty Glass ! 
 
 TAMÂM. 
 
 (Lxxv.) And when Thyself with shining Foot shall pass 
 ,8 59 Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass, 
 
 And in thy joyous Errand reach the Spot 
 Where I made one — turn down an empty Glass ! 
 
 TAMÄM SHUD. 
 
 (CI.) 
 1872 
 
 Nicolas 
 
 (-92) 
 
 McCarthy 
 (104) 
 
 M. K. 
 
 And when Yourself with silver Foot shall pass 
 Among the Guests Star-scatter'd on the Grass, 
 
 And in your blissful errand reach the spot 
 Where* I made One — turn down an empty Glass ! 
 
 TA. M A.M. 
 
 O amis ! convenez d'un rendez-vous (après ma 
 mort). Une fois réunis, réjouissez-vous d'être 
 ensemble, et, lorsque l'échanson prendra dans sa 
 main une coupe de vin vieux, souvenez-vous du 
 pauvre Khèyam et buvez à sa mémoire. 
 
 O, my friends, when I am sped, appoint a meet- 
 ing and when ye have met together, be ye glad 
 thereof, and when the cup-bearer holds in her hand 
 a flagon of old wine, then think upon old Khayyam 
 and drink to his memory. 
 
 Appoint ye a tryst, happy comrades, anon ! 
 
 And when — as your revel in gladness comes on — 
 
 The Saki takes goblet in hand, oh ! remember, 
 And bless, while you drink, the poor fellow that 's 
 gone !
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 19 7 
 
 Comrades ! when e'er ye meet together here, Whinfield 
 
 Recall your friend to mind, and drop a tear ; (234) 
 
 And when the circling wine-cups reach his seat, 
 Pray turn one upside down his dust to cheer. 
 
 O meine Freunde, gelobt, einst munter Euch Bodenstedt 
 
 Hier zu versammeln, wenn ich nicht mehr unter (ix. s) 
 
 Euch, 
 Den Pokal voll alten Weins zu schenken 
 Und trinkend des armen Chajjam zu gedenken. 
 
 Wenn ich gestorben bin, in unser Weinhaus lenkt Von Schack 
 Die Schritte noch einmal, Ihr Freunde, und (**) 
 
 gedenkt, 
 Indess voll alten Weins der Wirt die Gläser 
 
 schenkt, 
 Des armen Chijam, den sie in das Grab gesenkt. 
 
 In FitzGerald's first draught of edition III he changed Foot to 
 step. In CX (1868) the third line has joyous errand. 
 Whinfield, 112 (1882), reads: — 
 
 When the sad day of Khayyam's death comes round 
 Let your regrets, O friends, in wine be drowned; 
 And when the wine cups reach his vacant seat, 
 Let one deep draught be poured upon the ground. 
 "Tamam" means entirely, hence end; " tamâm shud" 
 means it is completed. 
 
 Whinfield 205 is a variant of 234 : — 
 
 O comrades dear, when hither ye repair 
 In times to come, communion sweet to share, 
 
 While tht cupbearer pours your old Magh wine, 
 Call poor Khayyam to mind, and breathe a prayer.
 
 RUBAIYAT WHICH WERE INCLUDED IN THE 
 SECOND EDITION (1868), BUT OMITTED FROM 
 SUBSEQUENT EDITIONS. 
 
 FitzGerald Were it not Folly, Spider-like to spin 
 
 (Xiv.) The Thread of present Life away to win — 
 1868 What? for ourselves, who know not if we shall 
 
 Breathe out the very Breath we now breathe in ! 
 
 Nicolas 
 (366) 
 
 Jusques à quand m'infligerai-je le souci de savoir 
 si je possède ou si je ne possède pas ? si je dois ou 
 si je ne dois pas passer gaiement la vie ? Remplis 
 toujours une coupe de vin, ô échanson ! car 
 j'ignore si j'expirerai ou non ce souffle qu'actuelle- 
 ment j'aspire. 
 
 McCarthy How long shall I vex me with the have or have- 
 
 (465) not, with wondering if I should or should not pass 
 
 life pleasantly? Nay, fill the cup, my cup-bearer, 
 
 for in truth I know not if I shall breathe out the 
 
 breath I now breathe in. 
 
 Whinfield Shall I still sigh for what I have not got, 
 (4") Or try with cheerfulness to bear my lot? 
 
 Fill up my cup ! I know not if the breath 
 I now am drawing is my last, or not !
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 199 
 
 Wie lange soll mich der Zweifel bedräuen, Bodenstedt 
 
 Ob ich habe oder nicht ? ( vin - 6? ) 
 
 Ob ich des Lebens mich soll erfreuen 
 
 Als guter Gabe, oder nicht ? 
 Füll' mir den Becher mit Wein, denn ich weiss 
 
 nicht, 
 Ob dieser Atemzug jetzt führt zum Grabe, oder 
 nicht. 
 
 Wie lang noch über was ich bin soll sich mein Von Schack 
 
 armer Kopf zerbrechen ? (102) 
 
 Wie lang noch von Enthaltsamkeit und Mässigung 
 
 mir wollt ihr sprechen ? 
 Ich weiss nicht, ob den Atemzug, den jetzt ich 
 
 thue, auszuthun 
 Vergönnt mir ist ; so lang ich 's kann, o Schenke, 
 
 lass darum mich zechen !
 
 200 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 
 
 FitzGerald If but the Vine and Love-abjuring Band 
 (LXV.) /ire in the Prophet's Paradise to stand, 
 1868 Alack, I doubt the Prophet's Paradise 
 
 Were empty as the hollow of one's Hand. 
 
 Nicolas On affirme qu'il y aura, qu'il y a même un enfer. 
 
 (64) C'est une assertion erronée ; on ne saurait y ajouter 
 
 foi, car, s'il existait un enfer pour les amoureux et 
 
 les ivrognes, le paradis serait, dès demain, aussi 
 
 vide que le creux de ma main. 
 
 McCarthy Folk say that there is a hell. This is a vain 
 
 (13O error, in which no trust should be placed, for if 
 
 there were a hell for lovers and bibbers of wine, why ■ 
 heaven would be, from to-morrow morn, as empty 
 as the hollow of my hand. 
 
 Whinfield Drunkards are doomed to hell, so men declare, 
 ( 6 7) Believe it not, 't is but an empty scare; 
 
 Heaven will be empty as this hand of mine, 
 If none who love good drink find entrance there. 
 
 Garner With Tales of future pains men threaten me, 
 
 (I. 19) They say there is a Hell in store for thee ; — 
 Love, if there is a Hell for all like us, 
 Their Heaven as empty as my Palm will be.
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyâm. 201 
 
 Man behauptet, dass eine Hölle sei Bodenstedt 
 
 Und kommt zu mir und droht damit. ( n - ") 
 
 Ich halte die Hölle für Narretei. 
 
 Drum hab 1 ich keine Not damit. 
 Denn gab' es wirklich ein solch Verliess 
 
 Für der verliebten Trinker Heer, 
 So wäre morgen das Paradies. 
 
 Wie meine hohle Hand so leer. 
 
 Von einer Hölle spricht man mir, in die ich Von Schack 
 
 kommen würde, (176) 
 
 Doch glaub' ich's nicht, ob schwer gedrückt auch 
 
 von der Sünden Bürde, 
 Denn, gab' es für verliebtes Volk und Trinker eine 
 
 Hölle, 
 Leer würde, wie meine hohle Hand, der Himmel 
 
 ja zur Stelle. 
 
 Wh in field, 33 (1S82), reads : — 
 
 If wine be an unpardonable sin, 
 God help Khayyam and his wine-bibbing kin ! 
 If all poor drouthy souls be lodged elsewhere. 
 Heaven'' s plains must be as bare as maiden'' s chin. 
 
 For a somewhat similar Rubâ'iy, see Appendix XLV.
 
 202 
 
 Rubâiyât of Omar Khayyam. 
 
 FitzGerald Better, oh better, cancel from the Scroll 
 (CVll.) Of Universe one luckless Human Soul, 
 1868 Than drop by drop enlarge the Flood" that rolls 
 
 Hoarser with A nguish as the Ages roll. 
 
 Nicolas O mon pauvre cœur ! puisque ton sort est d être 
 
 (25) meurtri jusqu'au sang par le chagrin, puisque ta 
 
 nature veut que tu sois chaque jour accablé d'un 
 nouveau tourment, alors, ô âme ! dis-moi ce que 
 tu es venue faire dans mon corps, dis, puisque tu 
 dois enfin le quitter un jour ? 
 
 McCarthy O, my sad soul, since it is your destiny to be 
 
 (54) pierced to the quick by sorrow, since Nature bids 
 
 that you shall be troubled every day with a new 
 torment, therefore, O my soul, tell me why you took 
 up your abode in my body, seeing that you must 
 one day quit it? 
 
 Whinfield O soul ! whose lot it is to bleed with pain, 
 (29) And daily change of fortune to sustain, 
 
 Into this body wherefore didst thou come, 
 Seeing thou must at last 2:0 forth aeain? 
 
 Bodenstedt O du armes Herz, das sich blutig quält, 
 
 ( v - 43) Weil Dir keinen Tag Fülle des Unglücks fehlt, 
 Sag, Seele, was führte Dich in meine Brust, 
 Die Du doch bald wieder verlassen musst ?
 
 Rubâiyàt of Omar Khayyâm. 203 
 
 O mein armes Herz, da täglich neue Trübsal dich Von Shack 
 
 zerreisst, < 28 ) 
 
 Da in ruhelosem Wandel Alles um dich wankt und 
 
 kreis't, 
 Sprich, warum in diesem Körper, den von Neuem 
 
 — und wie bald ! — 
 Zu verlassen dir verhängt ist, nahmst du deinen 
 
 Aufenthalt ? 
 
 In Whinfield, 14 (18S2), line 2 has, daily blows of fortune ; 
 line 4 reads : — 
 
 Seeing thoit must so soon depart again. 
 See Appendix XLVI.
 
 CENTRAL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 University of California, San Diego 
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 IG 18 1977 
 
 
 AUG 8 1977 
 
 
 
 
 J UN 05 1978 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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