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)
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2 comments:
Surely one of the most famous and beautiful lines in poetry, and how wonderful to have experienced that sort of moment with a lover.
At this point, I would be happy to sit alone in the wilderness with a good book!
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