The Rubaiyat

The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

Selected Quatrains rendered into English verse by Edward Fitzgerald

Wake! For the Sun, who scatter'd into flight The stars before him from the Field of Night, Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes, The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light.

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.

A book of Verses underneath the Bough, A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread – and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness – Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!

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.

But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days, Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays, And one by one back in the Closet lays.

The Moving Finger writes, and having writ, Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

- Omar Khayyam (c.1038-1123) - Edward Fitzgerald (1809-1883)