Informed Comment

I know the outside 
of being and nothingness,
and I know the inside 
of the high and the low.
Even so, I should be ashamed 
of all my knowledge
if I knew of any higher status
than drunkenness.

Translated by Juan Cole
from Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat, [pdf] Whinfield 336

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       Wine, you are 
                     my insane 
                                sweetheart;
            I hit the bottle and 
       have no fear of disgrace.
Drink so much Shiraz that 
                             all who see, ask:
              ‘Barrels of fine vintage, 
                        where did you 
                          come from?’

Translated by Juan Cole
from Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat, [pdf] Whinfield 472

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I staggered, drunk, outside a bar last night
and saw a tipsy older man emerge, 
a bottle slung across his shoulder; and
I said to him, “At your age, aren’t you 
ashamed before the Lord Almighty?” He 
laughed, “God is merciful: Here, have some wine!”

Translated by Juan Cole
from Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat, [pdf] Whinfield 284

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Last night I wandered into a 
dark pottery workshop and saw 
about two thousand pots lined up
in silence. But then suddenly 
a vase cried out, inquiring, ‘Where
in the world are the potter and
the customers and salespeople?”

Translated by Juan Cole
from Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat, [pdf] Whinfield 283

Posted in Omar Khayyam, Uncategorized | 1 Comment

I sip at wine, but never to get drunk,
and I assail no one, save for my  glass.
I venerate the finest vintage so
as to avoid self-worship of your sort.

Translated by Juan Cole
from Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat, [pdf] Whinfield 337

Posted in Omar Khayyam | 3 Comments

My sweetheart –
           may she live as long 
as my heartbreak –
        today began her kindnesses 
             anew.
   She locked eyes with me 
              for an instant, 
        then was gone– 
  meaning:  Do good,
and cast it upon the waters.

Translated by Juan Cole
from Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat, [pdf] Whinfield 273

Posted in Omar Khayyam, Uncategorized | 3 Comments

If you give wine 
             to a 
                   mountain,
you will 
            set it 
                                     dancing;
those 
who 
find fault 
          with wine
                 have something
                        wrong with
                                          them.
I’ll never repent 
        of my wine,
               for it
educates 
                        the soul.

Translated by Juan Cole
from Omar Khayyam’s Rubaiyat, [pdf] Whinfield 186

Posted in Omar Khayyam, Uncategorized | 3 Comments