This week’s post is something different - I’m sharing some of the earliest poetry I remember coming across: The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam*. It’s a collection of four line poems (rubai*, or quatrain) translated by Edward FitzGerald in 1859. His translation is based on the poems of Omar Khayyam, the 12th century Persian polymath.
A rubai (or quatrain) is a poem made up of four lines. There are two patterns: either the first, second and fourth lines all rhyme (see first example below), or all lines rhyme (see second example). Edward FitzGerald, with his artistic license, maintained this rhythm in translation.
Some reflections on a couple of the poems:
1. The moving finger writes
The moving finger writes;
and, having writ, moves on:
nor all thy piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
nor all thy tears wash out a word of it
This poem brings to life the phrase ‘what’s done is done.’ Once something happens, anything we have at our disposal - whether it’s knowledge or prayers - cannot change the tiniest detail of the past. There’s no point crying either - tears, with all their ability to wash ink away, can’t change a single thing about the past.
2. Tis all a Chequer-board of nights and days
Tis all a Chequer-board of nights and days
Where Destiny with men for Pieces plays:
Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
And one by one back in the closet lays
I like the imagery of the chequer-board of night and days, with its black and white tiles contrasted against each other. It reduces the complexity of life to the alternation of days and nights, in which we move, and mate, and slay (again, keeping the imagery of chess). The reality is that our ultimate destination is the closet - a place where all pieces must return when the game is over.
The first edition
Initially, there was very little traction of FitzGerald’s translation: 250 copies were printed, and most were sitting around in a bookstore. They were discovered by a poet of the time, Swinburne, who shared it with his friends. The book then went viral, and became so popular that there were numerous “Omar Khayyam clubs” established in England during the late 19th century, where members met to discuss the Rubaiyat.
Some thoughts on authenticity and meaning
Should this be viewed as a work of FitzGerald, rather than of Khayyam? Experts mention the flexibility FitzGerald allowed himself in translating the work, and many believe he mistook Khayyam’s original mystical themes for religious skepticism.
Nevertheless, removing the baggage of FitzGerald’s interpretation of Khayyam, the rubaiyat paints vivid pictures and can be used as poetry should: to educate, to inspire, and to nourish the soul.