however clear the mystical
meaning of such Images must be to Europeans, they are not quoted without
"rougissant" even by laymen in Persia--"Quant aux termes de tendresse
qui commencent ce quatrain, comme tant d'autres dans ce recueil, nos
lecteurs, habitues maintenant a 1'etrangete des expressions si souvent
employees par Kheyam pour rendre ses pensees sur l'amour divin, et a la
singularite des images trop orientales, d'une sensualite quelquefois
revoltante, n'auront pas de peine a se persuader qu'il s'agit de la
Divinite, bien que cette conviction soit vivement discutee par les
moullahs musulmans, et meme par beaucoup de laiques, qui rougissent
veritablement d'une pareille licence de leur compatriote a 1'egard des
choses spirituelles."]

First Edition

I.

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 Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light.

II.

Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,
"Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup
Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry."

III.

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."

IV.

Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
Where the WHITE HAND OF MOSES on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.

V.

Iram indeed is gone with all its Rose,
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
And still a Garden by the Water blows.

VI.

And David's Lips are lock't; but in divine
High piping Pelevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine!
Red Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That yellow Cheek of hers to'incarnadine.

VII.

Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring
The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly--and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.

VIII.

And look--a thousand Blossoms with the Day
Woke--and a thousand scatter'd into Clay:
And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose
Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.

IX.

But come with old Khayyam, and leave the Lot
Of Kaikobad and Kaikhosru forgot:
Let Rustum lay about him as he will,
Or Hatim Tai cry Supper--heed them not.