Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

Translated by FitzGerald, Fifth Edition

(Underline similes, metaphors, and examples of personification in the poem.)

My Interpretation

( Put your interpretation of what the poem means here. Explain the meaning of some of the similes, metaphors, and examples of personification. You may cut some of the stanzas -or skip them- if you wish to make it shorter.) NOTE: *** indicates the more famous lines.

 

 

***

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.

 

 

Before the phantom of the False morning died,

Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried,

"When all the Temple is prepared within,

Why nods 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."

 

 

.

 

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.

 

 

Whether at Naishapur 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.

 

 

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***

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!

 

 

Some for the Glories of This World; and some

Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come;

Ah, take the Cash, and let the Credit go,

Nor heed the rumble of a distant drum.

 

 

.

 

Ah, my Belov'd, 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.

 

 

For some we loved, the loveliest and the best

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.

 

 

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?

 

 

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

Without Wind, or Song, or Singer, and without 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."

 

 

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***

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 where in I went.

 

 

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 the Wind I go."

 

 

.

 

Then to the lip of this poor earthen Urn

I learn'd, the Secret of my Life to Learn:

And Lip to Lip it murmur'd, "While you live

Drink! for, once dead, you never shall return."

 

 

.

 

Waste not your Hour, nor in vain pursuit

Of This and That endeavour and dispute;

Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape

Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.

 

 

You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse

I made a Second Marriage in my house;

Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed

And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.

 

 

.

***

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 has blown for ever dies.

 

 

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.

 

 

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*****

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.

 

 

And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky,

Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die,

Lift not your hands to It for help, for It

As impotently moves as you or I.

 

 

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