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| Rubaiyat 251-300 |
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| 251 "Looking for happiness" - the voice of Reason said, "treasure each joyful moment, before you are dead! Since you are not the grass, after being cut down, Earth won't let you again over its face be spread." 252 Life's a moment in Time, wine cures every ill. The old wounds, the new pains the Future shall heal. For all fate brings to you be eternally grateful. Don't try to change what was decreed by God's Will. 253 If your life at the moment is full like a glass Have a glass full of wine for all this shall pass. Fate, which brings you today its enormous riches, shall deliver tomorrow a coup-de-grace. 254 I have pressed my dry lips to a lip of a jug: "For as long as I live I shall kiss you and hug." "Drink", a jug whispered, "but do not ask any favors, Wine can't change your fate, it is only a drug." 255 Pour more wine, for joy overflows the brim, I am carried away in the wake of its stream. Bring a chang, play it softly, for who wants to know if it is Paradise or a beautiful dream. 256 I'm worn out by love, for a man of my age only wine can lust of the heart assuage. How one who sells wine is making a profit when it's priceless, indeed worth more than any wage. 257 Throw off your back the old burden of greed, Shackles of vanity shake like dust off your feet. Wine drink, hair comb of your dear beloved, Life shall pass imperceptibly in doing it. 258 It is known that I curses at aging fling, It is known that I to a wine jug cling. But the fools don't know that wine is bringing to an old man - his youth, to a tired heart - spring. 259 Weight of the sober body I can't drag along the life-road, so wine I need to feel strong. I wait for a barman to get drunk and to tell me: "Pour yourself, for I cannot move even my tongue." 260 I can see that you, fool, have been caught in a snare of this transient life totally unaware. You would not free yourself, rushing aimlessly, mortal, Drink, relax, from his fate one won't run anywhere. 261 Do not lose heart, Khayyam, do not let the black spleen take away hope that soul is nursing within. Til the grave your eyes with pure joy will be looking at the roses in bloom, at the fields lush and green. 262 Not a sinner that always prays one should be, But a sinner that drinks every day one should be. Since the precious life very soon will be over not a shirk, but a gambler that plays one should be. 263 Though houris are waiting us in Paradise, to stay here, on Earth, longer would be my advice. Only far in the distance the drums sound pleasant, to shut up the windbags a stiff drink should suffice. 264 The Bull sparkles above when the Earth is asleep, under - the other bull holds this huge stony blip. What's between these two bulls on the sublunar pasture? Millions of the brainless donkeys and sheep. 265 Sweeter than fame is wine one shares with his peers, than a hypocrite's prayer to God a drunk's tears. Our drunken songs and the next day's lamentations are beyond questions pleasant to God's kind ears. 266 Not for The Word of God to a mosque I have come, not the depth of The Truth Universal to plumb. Because my prayer rug was already worn-out I went to steal the new where the old one came from. 267 Of the finest flax turban we're ready to sell, even the sultan's crown we're ready to sell. For a bottle of wine, without a wrangle, Nay, the holy Koran we are ready to sell. 268 I've been told: "You will drown in liquor, poor sot." "Cut your drinking in half", the advice I have got. Not if this means I can't have a drink in the morning, when to cure night's hang-over I need a double shot. 269 Drink! For very soon you'll fall forever asleep. Life is brief, like a blossoming of a tulip. Sitting with your friends in the crowded tavern drink, and the thoughts of death quickly in the bud nip! 270 If I am not allowed to see your face when its beauty is hidden behind black lace, it's as cruel as if locked in a wine cellar one is told, nonetheless, abstinence to embrace. 271 Don't trust the fibs of the abstainers who tell that we, drunkards, are destined to be burnt in Hell. If Hell is the place for the drunk poets and lovers, Paradise then to me is but an empty shell. 272 It is said wine waits for us in Paradise. If it's true than to drink it here is no vice. And to make love on Earth must be no sin either, if a kiss of a houri is the Heaven's prize. 273 If I break the fast for the enjoyments of flesh, don't call me, indignantly, a piece of trash. It is simple: at night one is free from the fasting, as, when making love, from your prudish tongue's lash. 274 A good drink is worth more than a kingly scepter. Wine is above Truth to a true connoisseur. To the eloquent speech by a sober orator I prefer, anytime, the unclear, drunken slur. 275 I buy wine, but happiness of Paradise will sell to anyone, who wants, for a half-price. If one wants to believe in the promise of Heaven, let him go there, for me wine here would suffice. 276 What is waiting for me, after death, who can tell, Paradisiacal bliss or the fires of Hell? But before I am dead, with my dearly beloved enjoy wine and life I, as always, shall. 277 To prefer wine to water is not a big deal. I would rather make love - work is making me ill. Asking God for forgiveness was never my habit. Only cowards repent - that is how I feel. 278 If you swear not to drink, say good-bye to your muse, one who keeps such a promise has no excuse. When the roses are blooming and the larks are singing to pledge abstinence, really, there is no use. 279 When my body is taken to a cemetery don't waste your tears - I am glad to be free. Wait til it has been turned into clay, soft and pliant, only then you can do all you want with dead me. 280 Fill with wine me, nothing in life I more crave, punish me with a vine if I misbehave. After death wash my body again with wine, on a grapevine stretchers take me to a grave. 281 Wash my body in wine, for it may help God when the Judgement Day comes find me on the spot. It is easy to find me - I smell precisely like an old wine cellar - my trusty abode. 282 I intend to stay drunk til the moment I die. My grave shall reek of wine right up to the sky. And when my drinking buddies come to pay a visit it's to get drunk by smelling it but not to cry. 283 Drink and revel, let them label you "immature". Any limits on what to think never endure. And if that's what it takes to abolish injustice be a highwayman, rob the rich, give to the poor. 284 Give enough wine to a hill and it will swing. I feel sorry for anyone who doesn't drink. It is a sin to curse wine - man's greatest blessing, to the cruel life kindness it tends to bring. 285 To discover the depth of my thirst, risking life to the bottom of the wine vat I would dive. After being divorced from the false bookish wisdom I would take a grapevine as my second wife. 286 When a life, ruthlessly, is torn up by the root, when a body is turned into dust underfoot, out of this dust make a jug, fill it with wine - the dead man will spring back to life as a new shoot. 287 If at night melancholy steals up, don't curse your fate, have a drink, for it could have been worse. Since you, fool, are not gold, it is highly unlikely they shall try one day to dig up you from the earth. 288 If an aching heart never can find the truth, don't waste, seeking it, your precious youth. Reconcile, submit to life's passionless verdict - to resist what is fated there is no use. 289 Not a word can be altered in the Book of Fate. It is foolish to choose pain as your mate. All you eat or drink will from then on taste like bile, dwelling on it shall only death precipitate. 290 No matter which way I turn - there is a trap, never in my life I made a single free step. Everything, in advance, was decided by Heaven. To call me then a rebel is but a bum rap. 291 Full of courage or fearful, refined or crass, from the first day these traits are implanted, alas. Til the last day we shall not become any better, nor worse, staying the same as Allah has made us. 292 When good luck strikes do not, fool, think it is your due, neither when misadventure comes as if on cue. Good and evil do not blame on the busy Heaven, it has many things to take care of besides you. 293 Everything, good or bad, that waits us in this land of the living has been written by the God's hand. In the Heavenly Scrolls all have been preordained. It makes no sense to fight fate without end. 294 Like the blazing Sun love is, it's never consumed, like a phoenix from the ashes ever resumed. What it is not is a nightingale's lamentations - to love is to be blessed, rather than to feel doomed. 295 Heaven whispered to heart: "What's the use to defame me, for all your troubles I am not to blame. If I were in control of the sky's revolutions your happiness would have been my only aim." 296 You have made what I am mixing water and soil, You are the cause of my happiness and turmoil, All that I've ever thought was dictated by You. What am I left to do? To say "thanks" for your toil? 297 What has happened to the mightiest men of yore? Cut by the Heaven's sickle they are no more. It is useless to grieve, only by drinking wine a mere mortal can learn immortality lore. 298 Mosque and prayer - for you, love and wine - for us, we are going to Hell, you are - to Paradise. But it's not our fault, neither it's your merit: all has been preordained by One, fair and wise. 299 What the difference does it make to pray or drink? Who will to Heaven rise, who will into Hell sink? All that happens to us long before the Creation has been written by God in indelible ink. 300 "Life's a hard work", we're told, "not a frivolous play, you'll be risen the same as you lived, in a way." Wine, me and my love never get separated, with them I want to wake up on the Judgement Day. |
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