9 | Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say: | |
| Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday? | ||
| And this first Summer month that brings the Rose | ||
| Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away. | ||
| 10 | Well, let it take them! What have we to do | |
| With Kaikobad the Great, or Kaikhosru? | ||
| Let Zal and Rustum bluster as they will, | ||
| Or Hatim call to Supper--heed not you. | ||
| 11 | With me along the strip of Herbage strown | |
| That just divides the desert from the sown, | ||
| Where name of Slave and Sultan is forgot-- | ||
| And Peace to Mahmud on his golden Throne! | ||
| 12 | A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, | |
| A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Thou | ||
| Beside me singing in the Wilderness-- | ||
| Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow! | ||
~from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
(Artwork by Edmund Dulac)
Surely one of the most famous and beautiful lines in poetry, and how wonderful to have experienced that sort of moment with a lover.
ReplyDeleteAt this point, I would be happy to sit alone in the wilderness with a good book!
ReplyDelete