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| RUBAIYAT 51-100 |
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| 51 I have asked a wise man: "Tell me, what have you learned reading all these big books, not a page left unturned?" "Happy is one", he said, "who embracing the beauty search for wisdom gave up, and the bookish truth spurned." 52 While staggering into a tavern at night I stepped over an old man who couldn't stand upright. "Do you not feel ashamed being such an old drunkard?" I asked him. "Kind God shall forgive", he replied. 53 Soon the Holy Day comes, for Allah's mercy pray, soon this mob will be drinking all night and all day. Every righteous writ, every godly proscription on such holy occasion it shall disobey. 54 Tulip's face in the morning is covered by dew, a wet violet doesn't present her best view. But one can't take the eyes from not yet blooming rose slightly lifting her skirt just to captivate you. 55 Had the world a Beginning, and if it had, when? Is the greatest puzzle God asked to solve men. Thru the ages the sages keep offering answers Yet, it seems, to come up with the right one none can. 56 He, whose table has only a cracked jug with water, and a loaf of bread on an old, broken platter, must, alas, bow to the one who is not as good as he, and call "sir" the one who isn't his better. 57 My advice: drink and fall in love at any age. To put airs on is to be locked in a cage. God, omnipotent, has no need, whatsoever for your stately moustache, or mine beard of a sage. 58 Why do you think a cock heralds every new day with a loud cry, like a muezzin at pray? In the mirror of dawn, when we all are still sleeping, he sees how one more night is slipping away. 59 Which drop in the Life's cup is not a sparkling one? For a short while here, and the next moment - gone. But He who fills the cup would spill numberless droplets sparkling bright as you are each day, just for a fun. 60 Where is the trusted friend, the one whom I can tell the Truth about Man, on which I daily dwell? Made of the torments' dust, formed from the troubles' clay coming here day before, the next one leave He shall. 61 To the teachers we go to learn in our youth. Later others will knock on our doors to get truth. What's the Truth? Turns to wind man, who as a drop started. To deny this, Khayyam, would be of no use. 62 I was born, but the stars stayed the same, not one more. I shall die, but will shine the sun as before. Where we've come from and where will go is unknown. What is thought of as true truly is fairy lore. 63 Where have the sages gone, the wise men of our race? To pursue the whole truth on the wild goose chase? Wasting words to no end to define God's essence, never seemed to agree, left without a trace. 64 There are many regrets as I tie life's loose ends Not too much time is left for the hasty amends I, the madman, have not heard what God has been saying Doing everything wrong just to break His commands. 65 Tomorrow, covered in a mist, is never clear The constant thoughts of it cause weariness and fear This fleeting moment miss not, for who knows Perhaps the new day will bring nothing but new tears. 66 To hell with the prayer, fast, mosque and mullah Let's drink wine, my friends, to give praise to Allah. Our flesh, undergone many a transformation, becomes a jug for wine or a bowl for pilau. 67 Look here: lies on the floor an old man, drunken fool, lost his mind but found God in a wine pool, having no strength even to open his mouth mutters under his breath: "Allah is merciful." 68 When a man on a binge throws money around and then crawls on all fours, his beard sweeping the ground, let the worlds collide, let the sky break apart, drunk, without a care, he shall sleep, safe and sound. 69 For compassion, my suffering heart, don't look. For the truth, in the world that lies, don't look. There is not in this world from grief medication, reconcile to it - for the cure don't look. 70 This speck of dust - a woman's flesh it was. A raven ringlet, a long lash it was. To wipe dust of your face be mindful and tender, A matchless beauty it, perhaps, once was. 71 Like a widower this old jug's always sad His incessant laments drive one almost mad: "Where", he cries, "are the men who had made, sold and bought me? All - the maker, the seller, the buyer - are dead!" 72 I bought once an old jug, which told me of his plight: " I'd been a king before, proud of my famed might. But from clay I've become this jug's made by a potter, who'd turned me, the great king, into the drunk's delight." 73 This old jug in the room of a man, poor as dirt was the mighty vizier- the first knight of the court. This old cup held by the hands, all shriveled and shaking, was the breasts or the lips of the famous flirt. 74 Don't cry when the clouds are gray in the spring Ask for wine and wait, for the next day shall bring the lush grass growing out of our remains, and the red poppies blooming to make the lark sing. 75 Stop your thinking, old man, look at this little boy The sand-castle he's built to play with as a toy. Give him sagely advice: "Be, young man, very careful with what were the wise heads and the hearts full of joy!" 76 In the cradle - a baby, a corpse - in the grave That is clear, the rest - shadows in the cave. Drink your cup to the end, don't ask many questions. Would the master reveal his intents to a slave? 77 Under these skies life is but a vale of tears no mercy they have, our cries don't hear. Men, who aren't yet born! If you only had known what is lying ahead, you'd have never come here. 78 Do not mourn, mortal man, what was lost yesterday. Do not measure what's coming by what's got away. Gone, forever, the past; there may be no future. Seize the present, stop dreaming, be happy today! 79 Months replaced one another, each year before us, Sages were born and died, many times before us. Trodden under your foot those crumbling stones were, before us, the pupils of the charming eyes. 80 Rather than to believe in the paradise bliss give to your sweetheart the most passionate kiss. Houris, fountains, roses - but the empty sounds. It is this life's delights I intend not to miss! 81 Men of old one will hardly in wisdom excel. Is there life everlasting? Who can truly tell? Isn't this earthly garden worth the one in heaven? After all, having died, you may go to hell 82 You, to a manor born, bred on fat of the land, your manor's roof may on the rotten poles stand. If the weak, mortal flesh is your soul's only house, think of that fool who had built his house on sand. 83 Walk in darkness they who to the dogmas adhere. And the thinkers aren't sure what is there, what is here. "Oh, fools! Both of you look in the wrong direction!" A voice from heaven will soon pronounce, I fear. 84 It is better to steal, or to starve, than to end up as a fawning dog, licking his master's hand. I would rather eat bread and drink nothing but water than feast with the oppressors of this enslaved land. 85 It's a shame for a man to submit to the fate of a greedy fly eating from any plate. Oh, Khayyam, better not to have food whatsoever than for a bone off a rich man's table to wait. 86 If a man who worked hard to earn his daily bread still does not have a place to lay down his head, should he bow to them who think they are his betters after taking from him through his life all he had? 87 I am seeing the sad earth - the vale of tears. I am seeing the dead - on the funeral biers. I am seeing the worms feasting on the remains of the beautiful maidens and the great emirs. 88 It is futile to fight the mortality curse. Everyone is consumed by the man-eating earth. If you are still alive can you hear the hoofs' clutter? Getting nearer and nearer the funeral hearse. 89 We look at what's without, not at what's within. Our knowledge, like beauty, is thin as a skin. Unessential is what we see in this world. Since the essence of it cannot ever be seen. 90 Even the greatest mind of the Universe can't break the spell of darkness engulfing the Earth. Even the wisest men for all that life of learning go to their graves neither better nor worse. 91 What's the God's plan for us, laid in the Holy Writ? Is it life with no end, or short and bittersweet? We are leaving this world not knowing either the beginning, the end or the meaning of it. 92 In the blinding light of the heavenly spheres the distinctions between time and space disappears. Heavens, vast beyond measure, defy human mind, and the music of the stars can't reach human ears. 93 It was not in the stars that your life's gone awry For they aimlessly wander themselves in the sky. Oh, wise man! If you are lost in the endless doubts, ask your mind what went wrong, when, how, and why. 94 It is futile to try to get a grip, my friend, on the truth that slips through your fingers, like sand. Take a cup in the hand, drink to the idle mind, In vino veritas (if you can understand). 95 Soon your body and soul will part their ways. Waits behind the black door of death Hades' maze. It is not known whence you came nor where you go. So, drink and enjoy what is left of your days. 96 After body to soul says a last good-bye six feet deep under ground it goes to lie. Into clay later turned this dead, soulless body shall be used to make bricks, pots, and jugs, by and by. 97 Where's the wise man who'd tried til the end of his life to discover the purpose of its endless strife? All he'd learned is that Death is the only thing certain, and the meaning of Life is just staying alive. 98 This old palace - the world is all we have got, the huge house of cards built by an idiot. From its crumbling halls after feasting or starving to emerge as dust is king's and slave's common lot. 99 The desires of flesh turn one into a slave of the bodily passions from cradle to grave. Take a look at yourself try to think hard about who you are and what keeps you in this foul cave. 100 Young and old into dust by fate ground I see, flattened by heavy earth under ground I see. Fixing my gaze on the great beyond's boundlessness more and more of the dead all around I see. |
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