Omar Khayyám


Omar Khayyám

Translated by Edward FitzGerald

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.




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 seem’d – and then no more of THEE and ME.



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.”




And my mother’s favorite. The one she awakened me with, EVERY single morning that I was home, as a child. Thank you mom.



Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night

Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight :
  And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultán’s Turret in a Noose of Light.

Thank you mother for giving to me the gift of loving poetry…

3 thoughts on “Omar Khayyám

  1. Love the poetry of the Rubaiyat- (though Rumi is my passion.)
    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

    Liked by 1 person

Thanking all lovely thoughts today

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