Quatrain no. 8 in the first edition of Edward FitzGerald’s loose translation of the FitzGerald’s Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám is about the impermanence of all life — of flowers and of kings and heroes. It is a common theme in the Persian originals. I have argued that since some of this poetry grew up in the 1200s when Iran was ruled by Buddhist Mongols, there may be some Buddhist influence in the verses. One of the themes of Buddhism is the impermanence of all things. But of course this idea exists in Islam as well. Qur’an 55:26 says “Every being on earth is bound to perish.”
FitzGerald’s stanza is:
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 Jamshýd and Kaikobád away.
The mention of the fall of past kings with all their pomp is a reminder to live life to the fullest, since even the most opulent of lives is brief.
FitzGerald may also have liked the image of kings falling because he was a republican of sorts. During the failed continental revolutions of 1848, he wrote that he supported an Italian republic, and he later made clear that he was no fan of France’s Napoleon III. So the ephemerality of the kings may have had political implications for him. He was not a republican when it came to Britain, though, since he thought the monarchy had done well by the British people. He just held that no new dynasties should be established.
In his Romance of the Rubáiyát A. J. Arberry proposed that the first two lines here were taken from the first half of Calcutta quatrain 518 (also here ).
از آمدن بهار و از رفتن دی
اوراق وجود ما همی گردد طی
می خور! مخور اندوه که فرمود حکیم
غمهای جهان چو زهر و تریاقش می
I would translate it this way in blank verse:
Since spring has now arrived and winter’s gone,
the page of being is rolled up for us.
Drink wine! Drink in no grief, the sage has said:
The poison’s pain; the antidote is wine.
transliteration
az āmadan-e bahār o az raftan-e day
awrāq-e vujūd-e mā hamī gardad ṭayy
may khor! ma-khor andūh ke farmūd ḥakīm
ghamhā-yi jahān chū zahr o tiryāqash may
But there are other candidates for the inspiration for the first two lines here.
For instance, I translated no. 17 of the Bodleian manuscript as: “The spring breeze on a rose’s cheek spreads joy . . . No words about last winter can bring cheer.” (My no. 16).
بر چهرۀ گل نسیم نوروز خوش است
در صحن چمن روی دل‌افروز خوش است
از دی که گذشت هر چه گویی خوش نیست
خوش باش و ز دی مگو که امروز خوش است
—-
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Arberry thought that the second two lines derived from the second half of Calcutta 497 (also here):
هنگام صبوح ای صنمِ فرخ‌پی
برساز ترانه‌ای و پیش‌آور می
کافکند به خاک صدهزاران جم و کِی
این آمدن تیر مَه و رفتن دی
My translation of this one would be as follows:
I hear my idol’s blessed dawn footfall:
“Strike up a song and bring for us some wine!”
A hundred thousand Jams and Kays are dust.
As April comes, December then departs.
transliteration:
hangām-e sabūḥ ay ṣanam-e farrokh-pay
barsāz tarāna’ī o pīsh-āwar may
k-afkand ba khāk sad-hazārān Jam o Kay
īn āmadan-i tīr-i mah o raftan-i day
(“Pay” is a classical Persian word for foot [now it is pa], akin to pod in our podiatry or the French pied and Spanish pie. “Sad” or a hundred is distantly related to our “century” or the French cent from which we get our word for a penny.)
This quatrain refers to the ancient Iranian custom of drinking a cup of wine in the morning, though here it is combined with a romantic scene where the protagonist hears his beloved’s auspicious footfalls as he wakes.
Jam here is short for Jamshid, another mythical ancient Iranian king. I explained about this figure here.
The verse uses almost mythological numbers (a hundred thousand) to describe the multitudes of past monarchs who are beneath the dust, to underline that no one is immune to the swift and deadly march of time (and therefore, we may as well enjoy ourselves while we are here).
“Plate with king hunting rams. Sasanian. Date: ca. mid-5th–mid-6th century CE. Iran, said at the time of the acquisition to have been found in Qazvin. Medium: Silver, mercury gilding, niello inlay. Metropolitan Museum, NYC.
Kay here is short for Kaykobad, as FitzGerald recognized. Kay Kobad or Kay Kawad is a mythical ancient Iranian king — indeed, the old Zoroastrian sources make him the first king, sort of like Saul was said to be the first king of ancient Israel.
Abo’l-Qasem Ferdowsi (d. 1025), the author of the great Persian epic, the Book of Kings (Shahnameh), told a story that the hero Zal was dissatisfied with the candidates for kingship. A pious priest (mowbed) suggested that he seek out Kaykobad. So Zal sent his son, the great warrior Rostam, to discover him in Alborz mountains near today’s Tehran. He was found living along a river bank.
Julius von Mohl, born in Stuttgart, moved to Paris and became a major specialist in Near Eastern studies, being appointed to the first chair of Persian at the Collège de France in 1847. He was commissioned by the French government to translate Ferdowsi’s Book of Kings.
German-British translator Helen Zimmern in 1883 brought out a prose translation of von Mohl’s French version of Ferdowsi. She told the story of Rustam’s quest for Kaykobad this way:
- “But Zal, when he had drawn up his army in battle array, spake unto them, saying-
“O men valiant in fight, we are great in number, but there is wanting to us a chief, for we are without the counsels of a Shah [king], and verily no labour succeedeth when the head is lacking. But rejoice, and be not downcast in your hearts, for a Mubid hath revealed unto me that there yet liveth one of the race of Feridoun to whom pertaineth the throne, and that he is a youth wise and brave.”
And when he had thus spoken, he turned him to Rustem and said-
“I charge thee, O my son, depart in haste for the Mount Alberz, neither tarry by the way. And wend thee unto Kai Kobad, and say unto him that his army awaiteth him, and that the throne of the Kaianides is empty.”
And Rustem, when he had heard his father’s command, touched with his eyelashes the ground before his feet, and straightway departed. In his hand he bare a mace of might, and under him was Rakush the swift of foot. And he rode till he came within sight of the Mount Alberz, whereon had stood the cradle of his father. Then he beheld at its foot a house beauteous like unto that of a king. And around it was spread a garden whence came the sounds of running waters, and trees of tall stature uprose therein, and under their shade, by a gurgling rill, there stood a throne, and a youth, fair like to the moon, was seated thereon. And round about him leaned knights girt with red sashes of power, and you would have said it was a paradise for perfume and beauty.
Now when those within the garden beheld the son of Zal ride by, they came out unto him and said-
“O Pehliva, it behoveth us not to let thee go farther before thou hast permitted us to greet thee as our guest. We pray thee, therefore, descend from off thy horse and drink the cup of friendship in our house.”
But Rustem said, “Not so, I thank you, but suffer that I may pass unto the mountain with an errand that brooketh no delay. For the borders of Iran are encircled by the enemy, and the throne is empty of a king. Wherefore I may not stay to taste of wine.”
Then they answered him, “If thou goest unto the mount, tell us, we pray thee, thy mission, for unto us is it given to guard its sides.”
And Rustem replied, “I seek there a king of the seed of Feridoun, who cleansed the world of the abominations of Zohak, a youth who reareth high his head. I pray ye, therefore, if ye know aught of Kai Kobad, that ye give me tidings where I may find him.”
Then the youth that sat upon the throne opened his mouth and said, “Kai Kobad is known unto me, and if thou wilt enter this garden and rejoice my soul with thy presence I will give thee tidings concerning him.”
When Rustem heard these words he sprang from off his horse and came within the gates. And the youth took his hand and led him unto the steps of the throne. Then he mounted it yet again, and when he had filled a cup with wine, he pledged the guest within his gates. Then he gave a cup unto Rustem, and questioned him wherefore he sought for Kai Kobad, and at whose desire he was come forth to find him. And Rustem told him of the Mubids, and how that his father had sent him with all speed to pray the young King that he would be their Shah, and lead the host against the enemies of Iran. Then the youth, when he had listened to an end, smiled and said-
“O Pehliva, behold me, for verily I am Kai Kobad of the race of Feridoun!”
And Rustem, when he had heard these words, fell on the ground before his feet, and saluted him Shah. Then the King raised him, and commanded that the slaves should give him yet another cup of wine, and he bore it to his lips in honour of Rustem, the son of Zal, the son of Saum, the son of Neriman. And they gave a cup also unto Rustem, and he cried-
“May the Shah live for ever!”
Then instruments of music rent the air, and joy spread over all the assembly . . .”
In this series:
FitzGerald’s Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám 1:1
“Awake my little ones and fill the Cup!” FitzGerald’s Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám 1:2
“Those who Stood before the Tavern” – FitzGerald’s Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám 1:3
Now the New Year is Reviving old Desires: FitzGerald’s Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám 1:4
“But still the Vine her ancient Ruby Yields:” Fitzgerald’s Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám 1:5
“Red Wine!” – the Nightingale cries to the Rose: FitzGerald’s Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám 1:6
“The Bird is on the Wing”: FitzGerald’s Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám 1:7.
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