Omar Khayyám was a Persian polymath, mathematician, philosopher, astronomer, physician, and poet. He wrote treatises on mechanics, geography, and music. His significance as a philosopher and teacher, and his few remaining philosophical works, have not received the same attention as his scientific and poetic writings. Zamakhshari referred to him as “the philosopher of the world”. Many sources have testified that he taught for decades the philosophy of Ibn Sina in Nishapur where Khayyám was born buried and where his mausoleum remains today a masterpiece of Iranian architecture visited by many people every year.
Outside Iran and Persian speaking countries, Khayyám has had impact on literature and societies through translation and works of scholars. The greatest such impact among several others was in English-speaking countries; the English scholar Thomas Hyde (1636–1703) was the first non-Persian to study him. The most influential of all was Edward FitzGerald (1809–83), who made Khayyám the most famous poet of the East in the West through his celebrated translation and adaptations of Khayyám's rather small number of quatrains (rubaiyaas) in Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám.'
Where Khayyám ends and where Fitzgerald starts in this translation of the RUBÁIYÁT?
What a behemoth effort must have been exerted by Edward Fitzgerald to translate these witty-mind, beautiful verses, from their original Persian to English in 1859, and be able to capture their essence?
Here is a Rubáiyát by me | For Khayyam's poetry made me smile continuously | Best enjoyed with a glass of wine | Four verses each, hilarious, divine ☺️🍷
The foreword by the translator has him claiming his translation is a "gift to the Iranian people of an otherwise unknown and underappreciated poet". Mr. Fitzgerald also shamelessly says that Khayyam's poetry is not up to snuff and therefore free to be reinterpreted and taken liberties with by yet another European translator. Be faithful to the original author guys cmon
From what I gather Khayyam, a mathematician and philosopher, ruminates on establishing sequences to form whatever may be called reality. Personally I have always thought along the lines something like this: Persian -- the word Persian itself is seductive as an exotic cat, the type with fur, and enchants me. I’d like to learn Persian, but I never will. It’s been a long standing disappointment and will continue to be a mournful disappointment for the remainder of my life. In the meantime I will overlook the barricades of translation, ghostly elephants quite unobserved but sensed as nearby mammoth shadows, and grasp the poetic rose with thumb and finger by the thorns and bleed a little reading this volume. For what I do not know, perhaps for the exercise, such as performing a jumping jack in an empty meadow.
Ah Love would thou and I with fate conspire, to grasp the sorry scheme of things entire, would we not shatter it to bits, and then? Remould it nearer the hearts desire.....need one say more about this tome?
"a book, a woman and a flask of wine: the three make a heaven for me"
-omar khayyam-
"wine" and "drunkard" imageries are being used a lot in the sufism poetry. I love how they talk about life. They make me "feel" this life more. sufism at heart.
Omar Khayyam is pure genius who in a few words was capable of expressing any aspects of human life. You can read his short poems over and over again. Every time you find something new and amazing!
Still the best of the best for me and much preferred to Rumi or Hafez. A poet drunk on life and a bit more 😉, howling at the stars in very lyrical and prolific ways.
Quatrain queries: Edward Fitzgerald (1809-83) was an interesting fellow - a confirmed bachelor dedicated to academic life who spent a considerable amount of time with a seaman he met in Lowestoft, Joseph ‘Posh’ Fletcher, and eventually married a deceased friend’s daughter out of a Victorian desire to ‘provide’ for her (it was a disaster - she thought she could ‘reform’ him while he had no desire to give up his routines or engage in polite society - and they separated after six months). His Meisterwerk, the Rubaíyát, is the random jottings of an apocryphal astronomer from 11th or 12th century Persia with a moving finger. It’s included here with Euphranor, “a dialogue on youth” which contains the aphorism that the best way to turn people off religion is to put up posters with the Ten Commandments on, something the American right will shortly discover (Fitzgerald became more implacably opposed to organised Christianity as he grew older) and Salaman and Absal, another translation from Persian of mystic and mystifying verse. Not sure what to make of the Rubíyát - it really doesn’t seem like the work of a single author and rambles wildly from high-minded to mundane, though I can see the appeal to some, and EF’s translation is elegant and poetic, suggesting much lying beneath if not Omar’s then Edward’s words.
The sultan's turret was caught in a noose of light. That tells you so much about this gorgeous poetry. that the high and mighty are themselves but the irrelevant bystanders to a world that regards them not, while praying to gods who neither listen nor care is as sobering as it is profound. There is much the same here, as the poet muses about the deeply shallow nature of our relationships with time, the world we live on, and each other. The only thing the poet seems to know, and therefore beautifully encourages is that life is short and we must laugh at every absurdity that creates as we pass through. The bird of time has but little way to fly and -lo- the bird is on the wing.
“Now the New Year reviving old desires The thoughtful soul to solitude retires” Quatrain
23 “ah, make the most of what we yet may spend Before we too into the Dust descend, Dust to Dust and under Dust to lie Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer and sans End” 26 and 28
39 “how long, how long in infinite pursuit Of this and that endeavour and dispute? Better be merry with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none or bitter fruit”
Some moments and I can see the epicurean response to that the seeming futility in life (and there’s lots of drinking from cups) but the wisdom is too far in between and I can’t but wonder how much of this is from a real source
The poems contained within are valuable, as they boil hedonism down to its essential functions - and in doing so... oddly romanticizes it. Life is only so long, and though there is so much to learn, and see, and do, you must not allow yourself to fall into misery. After all, what good is experience if it does not bring you happiness?
Come, pour the wine and crack a smile. Life is so beautiful when you allow yourself to admire it in its simplicity.
Без сомнения в книге большое количество мудрых изречений и мыслей, но впечатления испортило достаточна активная пропаганда к жизненным усладам и праздности. Конечно жизнь без отдыха не будет полностью сбалансирована, но я почему-то даже и не заметил, чтоб помимо множественных призывов наслаждаться вином, автор также активно призывал к труду и каким-либо достижениям.