Internal rhyme in The Rubaiyat

Strong - complete (vowel with consonant), ultimate syllable Medium -complete, involving  internal syllable(s) Weak - incomplete (vowel only) Inverted - vowel-consonant/consonant-vowel

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FitzGerald

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Brodie

AWAKE! for Morning in the Bowl of Night  Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight:  And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught  The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light.

1

Apollo hefts that Gauntlet high to throw -- That Artemis affronting Gesture's Sight  Thrusts out anon her Tent of Black, and Oh! The Sun effulgent shines on, Halo White!

Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,  "Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup  Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry."

2

In silent Morn, the Lawn still wet with Dew, The friendly Owner of the Pub said: "Drink! Ah, come! A lusty Bacchic Vial quaff, Ere ye despair, and in the Grave ye sink."

And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before  The Tavern shouted -- "Open then the Door!  You know how little while we have to stay,  And, once departed, may return no more."

3

Oh Rooster! when it crowed we Men who drink Turned to the Pub: "Oh welcome! No Delay! Old Throats crave Oceans of Nepenthe sweet - A Vodka on the House? thy Treat today!" [Old Throats crave Oceans of Nepenthe sweet - [A Vodka on the House? thy Treat today!"]

Now the New Year reviving old Desires. The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,  Where the White Hand Of Moses on the Bough  Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.

4

Oh how Youth do perpetuate Life's Germ If Winter's ghoulish Loneliness adjourns; The Future? those hued Trees do show us It! O God's green Thumb the View so verdant turns.

Iram indeed is gone with all his Rose,  And Jamshýd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;  But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields, And still a Garden by the Water blows.

5

That Sultan's Star, now in, it vanishes! Oh, to his Kingdom we will bid "Good-bye!" But ne'er shall "Wet Springs" Ranch Land ended be; Nay! Wine's red, merry Juice shall never die!

And David's Lips are lock't; but in divine High piping Pehlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine!  "Red Wine!"--the Nightingale cries to the Rose  That yellow Cheek of her's to'incarnadine.

6

With heavenly Voice, O Noise inspired, we chant  "This Red Ale! Drink it up!", elated singing.  Ah, Finch, to a white Violet chirp "Pink!"  O see it redden! -- warble then, while winging. [O see it redden! -- warble then, while winging.]

Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:  The Bird of Time has but a little way  To fly -- and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.

7

I'd beg a Sip, if it be April Grape, Romancing Life before its Thrill doth melt. Youth in the Wind can flutter off,  O then  No new Enchantment with dry Age's felt.

Whether at Naishapur or Babylon,  Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,  The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,  The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.

8

If  People one safe happy Zenith know, Or trapped by Hell with Woe in Terror be; Ah, the bubbly River of our fleeting Weeks  Doth flow unceasing there into the Sea.

Morning 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 Jamshýd and Kaikobád away.

9

This Dawn Sky's heating Rays rejuvenate Those Herbs of May; but Oh, I am dismayed  At last Year's shrunken Buds - the transient Dross. Oh mark how Mortals' bygone Glories fade.

But come with old Khayyám, and leave the Lot  Of Kaikobád and Kaikhosrú forgot!  Let Rustum cry "To Battle!" as he likes,  Or Hátim Tai cry Supper--heed them not.

10

Ah, amble by me, busy Fuss forsake; Avoid all Company with Duke or Sheikh. Attack to kill, delight to maim? Oh Truce! Don't hurt. Or eye the Treat?--do not partake!

With me along the strip of Herbage strown  That just divides the Desert from the sown,  Where name of Slave and Sultán is forgot --  And pity Máhmúd on his golden Throne!

11

The Dream! out under hanging Palms a-bloom, With she who jests and savors this short Life -- Envied of Men of Power, Glory-men, Hunted with Danger that attends to Strife.

A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,  A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread, -- and Thou  Beside me singingin the Wilderness --  Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!

12

A Poem, and Trees a-blowing in a Wind. A Brew I'll drink -- base Needs of other Stuff Ignore. Ah see here how we do behave; Indeed for us a Song is just enough.

Some for the Glories of This World; and some  Sigh for the Prophet's Paradise to come; Ah, take the Cash, and let the Promise go,  Nor heed the Rumble of a distant Drum!

13

Doth Man chase Comforts, Gold, and high Regard? Or seeks he out Priest, Minister, the Pope? Ah Lord, I'd taste the best of Human Life; O let me shed a far Tomorrow's Hope.

Wereit not Folly, Spider-like to spin  The Thread of present Life away to win -- What? for ourselves, who know not if we shall  Breathe out the very Breath we now breathe in!

14

If we're intent to Hope for heavenly Bliss, Oh, Profit in the Earth away we throw -- Better we briefly taste Love's Pleasure, for What Hour we'll sink in Death we do not know!

Look to the Rose that blows about us -- "Lo,  [Look to the Rose that blows about us -- "Lo,] Laughing," she says, "into the World I blow:  At once the silken Tassel of my Purse  Tear, and its Treasure on the Garden throw."

15

A Title Hope in Earth, oh Ego? No! Lo, Nature's short Blooms show us What? We learn To say "Good-bye."--all Assets in the World, Like Nature's Gifts, back to the Dust return.

The Worldly Hope men set their Hearts upon  Turns Ashes -- or it prospers; and anon,  [Turns Ashes -- or it prospers; and anon,] Like Snow upon the Desert's dusty Face  Lighting a little Hour or two -- is gone.

16

The Riches People think will last so long Go sour -- or persist and Worth retain;  See Dew upon the Grass out in the Sun -- So Fortune spent doth hardly yet remain.

And those who husbanded the Golden Grain,  And those who flung it to the Winds like Rain,  Alike to no such aureate Earth are turn'd  As, buried once, Men want dug up again.

17

Lo, when a Niggard audits Banks, and when An anguished Teen at Sin a Fortune throws, Ah Both, I'd augur, rate an untouched Death: Like Dung, to Ore will Neither decompose.

Think, in this batter'd Caravanserai  Whose Doorways are alternate Night and Day,  How Sultan after Sultan with his Pomp  Abode his Hour or two and went his way.

18

Oh in our weary Habitation, Earth, Eternal Windows framed by Dusk and Dawn, A Pharaoh's Star view  - watch it shatter, Heir, Washed up, not long to stay in this Salon.

They say the Lion and the Lizard keep  The Courts where Jamshýd gloried and drank deep:  And Bahrám, that great Hunter--the Wild Ass  Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.

19

Majestic Shahs at grand Persepolis, By proud Beast Herds attended at their Peak; Mark what great Monarchs doze, all hushed by Death; Ruined, in Hell, down in the Earth they sneak.

The Palace that to Heav'n his Pillars threw,  And Kings the Forehead on his Threshold drew--  I saw the solitary Ringdove there, And "Coo, coo, coo," she cried; and "Coo, coo, coo."

20

Oh Castle high, on whose heraldic Door Do these, the Royals of late honored Lines,  The Visage paint -- see that a Dove doth chirp, A Cock doth crow, a Crow on Carrion dines.

I sometimes think that never blows so red  The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;  That every Hyacinth the Garden wears  Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head.

21

It seems, when in a shaded silent Park, That every Blossom, every Chaplet's Bud, Grows rather more attractive to Man's Eye  On Soil enriched here with famed Heroes' Blood.

And this delightful Herb whose tender Green  Fledges the River's Lip on which we lean --  Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows  From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!

22

Ah, kneel in high Respect when at the Springs; Honor when viewing Flowers in the Dell; Lo from one vanished fine Soul far below This pretty, sightly Garden could upwell.

Ah, my Beloved, fill the Cup that clears TO-DAY of past Regrets and future Fears:  To-morrow! Why, To-morrow I may be  Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years.

23

My Friend, salute my happy Serum sweet That Care aborts and Worry holds at bay. Give me TODAY! O Why? Life's over fast -  Fed to the Worms, our Flesh returns to Clay.

Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and best That Time and Fate of all their Vintage prest, Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,  And one by one crept silently to Rest.

24

Those I've adored that born to freedom's Hope, Know not a Course but "Carpe Diem!", They've Life's Bottle tasted fervently till All Turn in to sleep, and now are in the Grave.

And we, that now make merry in the Room They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom,  Ourselves must we beneath the Couch of Earth  Descend, ourselves to make a Couch -- for whom?

25

Ah with much Fondness we remember now Those lovely Folks tucked far below, esteemed; And then Tomorrow, Autumn, our Turn comes -  A Vacancy, eh? Time so short here has seemed!

Ah, make the most of what we may yet spend,  Before we too into the Dust descend;  Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie;  Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and -- sans End!

26

We'd best attempt to get Enchantment's Kiss, As handed us in the due Season rife; Why? O ye mute down under Dirt do go, To end sans Sound, sans Wants, and so -- sans Life!

Alike for those who for To-day prepare, And those that after some To-morrow stare,  A Muezzin from the Tower of Darkness cries "Fools! Your Reward is neither Here nor There!"

27

Oh Those that worry of that Time far off, Or worry now and hoard for One that's near, Do Errors sore make, and must Elsewhere look To seize their secret Prize supreme, I fear.

Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd  Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust  Like foolish Prophets forth; their Works to Scorn [Of the Two Worlds so learnedly, are thrust  Like foolish Prophets forth; their Works to Scorn] Are scatter'd, and their Mouths are stopt with Dust.

28

So, Wisdom of those worldly Thinker's Words,  Truths sacrosanct, propounded Thoughts, that fade Like worthless Errors, that we trust, they wane; False Scholarship to rest in Death is laid.

Myself when young did eagerly frequent Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument  About it and about; but evermore Came out by the same Door as in I went.

29

Mentored by Guru, and Rabbi devout, Who many a Quandry fought, Men at debate. Reason oft circularly seen, it seemed [Reason oft circularlyseen, it seemed] That I was doomed to an e'er turning Gate.

With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow,  And with my own Hand labour'd it to grow:  And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd --  "I came like Water and like Wind I go."

30

Ah, Knowledge! Education's widen'd Base, I vow'd to add while wandering mid Earth. The Pity is I'm mortal, fed to Worms; I think ahead: "All this! What was it worth?"

Into this Universe, and Why not knowing,  Nor Whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing: And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,  I know not Whither, willy-nilly blowing.

31

In Life will thy End be not Unknown Deeds? Will ye Ovation glowing want to win When yeon Wings will flirt anon with Stars? Oh I think ye will walk, to your Chagrin!

What, without asking, hither hurried whence?  And, without asking, whither hurried hence!  Another and another Cup to drown  The Memory of this Impertinence!

32

Oh to and fro with urgent Whim we trek; Hike here and there in mad chaotic Rush. O earn unhappy Torment in this Earth? To end, with Wine our hectic Grind we hush.

Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate  [Up from Earth's Centre through the Seventh Gate]  I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,  And many Knots unravel'd by the Road;  But not the Master-Knotof Human Fate.

33

Ah, by the Theban Rampart strong I sought To understand the tyrant Stars of Men; Ah Fortune, Heaven-sent, thou art not free; The Luck, then Doom, of Man evades our Ken.

There was the Door to which I found no Key:  There was the Veil through which I could not see: Some little talk awhile of Me and Thee There was -- and then no more of Thee and Me.

34

I mark the Sheet that hindered Light and View: O too, the Way whose Lock would not release. Do we Men find Thee, Home of human Truth? O if not, O then here the Search will cease.

Then to the rolling Heav'n itself I cried,  Asking, "What Lamp had Destiny to guide  "Her little Children stumbling in the Dark?" And -- "A blind Understanding!" Heav'n replied.

35

I'd Seek a Lord transcendent that all Things Can plan -- He'd end intending Virtue bright? "If all Men grovel badly in rude Sin, Wilt Thou, kind-hearted, help?"  He said, "I might!"

Earth could not answer; nor the Seas that mourn  In flowing Purple, of their Lord forlorn;  Nor Heav'n, with those eternal Signs reveal'd  And hidden by the sleeve of Night and Morn.

36

Our World hath loathed Reply; and Neptune's Froth Hath grown bereft of Strength here, Master gone.  Oh covered Realm divine? No, fallen still! Nor Vision had in Sunset, nor in Dawn.

Then to the Lip of this poor earthen Urn  I lean'd, the secret Well of Life to learn:  And Lip to Lip it murmur'd -- "While you live,  Drink! -- for, once dead, you never shall return."

37

An Honor fell to me, for my true Friend  The Cup I took: Help, sound Advice distilled: "I'll warn you errant People: Fate turns - Lo, An Hurt? Oh revel there in Wine." I thrilled!

I think the Vessel, that with fugitive  Articulation answer'd, once did live,  And merry-make, and the cold Lip I kiss'd,  How many Kisses might it take -- and give!

38

As with the talkative Container I Did flirt, and to me wise Advice he gave, I trust, my Man, he did his lewd Kicks get - O is it darling silken Nymphs? Thou Knave!

For in the Market-place, one Dusk of Day,  I watch'd the Potter thumping his wet Clay:  And with its all obliterated Tongue  It murmur'd -- "Gently, Brother, gently, pray!"

39

The Master, real skill'd at working Dirt, That Pile of Putty threw - a-yelling by, It whimpered in an Accent crude: "Oh me! Don't batter me that rough; pound softly, Guy."

And has not such a Story from of Old  Down Man's successive Generations roll'd  Of such a Clod of saturated Earth  Cast by the Maker into human Mould?

40

As in Accounts of how God models Dirt, As Man He sketches, crafted out of Clay, So cananUrn savant, Lord Mr. Mud, Out of mute Sand his "Hello Brother" say.

Ah, fill the Cup :--what boots it to repeat  How Time is slipping underneath our Feet:  Unborn TO-MORROW, and dead YESTERDAY, Why fret about them if TO-DAY be sweet!

41

Imbibe! O worry not that Life's Hope drifts;  The Day gone by, the Future not yet here:  Do tenuous NOW remember, not a Fad - What's up-to-date, watch: it will disappear!

And not a Drop that from our Cups we throw For Earth to drink of, but may steal below To quench the fire of Anguish in some Eye There hidden--far beneath, and long ago.

42

Liquor beneath the Ground undo hot Pain! Offer thy Honey as a Sea of Balm. Soothe the deep Torment and wash off dark Woe,  A tortured Wretch in burning Grief to calm.

As then the Tulip for her wonted Sup Of Heavenly Vintage lifts her Chalice up,  Do you, twin Offspring of the Soil, till Heav'n ToEarth invert you like an empty Cup.

43

Ah, see the purple Violet catch the Drops Of Life reviving Nutrient divine! Supply thy Soul, thou Progeny of Clay, With Lakes of Ale, then, from that Fountain, Wine.

Do you, within your little Hour of Grace,  The waving Cypress in your Arms enlace, Before the Mother back into her Arms Fold, and dissolve you in a last Embrace.

44

Ere you by Charon to a frigid Realm  Of Death are ferried by his Ark, thy Chance Lose not to revel in Love's sumptuous Glow, Warm Sensibility and Touch -- Romance!

A Moment's Halt -- a momentary Taste  Of Being from the Well amid the Waste --  And Lo! the phantom Caravan has reach'd  The Nothing it set out from -- Oh, make haste!

45

Lament the Saga of a human Fate, The Months of Man's short, vain, and mortal Path That to the desert Origin comes back: We eye him all worm-eaten  - do the Math!

Oh, plagued no more with Human or Divine,  To-morrow's Tangle to itself resign,  And lose your Fingers in the Tresses of  The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine.

46

To worry of Men's Pedigrees? Do not!  Or of their Righteousness, their Sins mundane. I'll fete the Women in Seraglios, Let's drown in lusty Rivers of Champagne.

Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain Pursuit  Of Thisand That Endeavor and Dispute;  Better be merry with the fruitful Grape  Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.

47

If round you'd hurry and with Argument  The Venture that is Profit-bound obtain;  Potations festive rather we'd prefer To banal transient Futures there - the Drain!

You know, my Friends, with what a brave Carouse  I made a Second Marriage in my House;  Divorced old barren Reason from my Bed,  And took the Daughter of the Vine to Spouse.

48

Oh, Logic's bossy Humours I've renounced; From a chaste, modest, proud Vow off I break. And wed that rare, young, radiant Dame, Red Wine - Ah, in my Bosom her I've yearned to take.

For "IS" and "IS NOT" though with Rule and Line,  And "UP-AND-DOWN" by Logic I define,  Of all that one should care to fathom, I Was never deep in anything but--Wine.

49

Did Reason's candent Sun illume a Law  Newtonian by apt Logicians' Thought? Dewof the Vine one hundred fifty Proof - O Oil in Hand, in HER Law I'd  be taught.

And lately, by the Tavern Door agape,  Came stealing through the Dusk an Angel Shape  Bearing a Vessel on his Shoulder; and He bid me taste of it; and 'twas -- the Grape!

50

A noble God in "Beer Shed" Bar appears As through a Passageway in Heaven's Vault. He did decant: "Let's drink! Grant Health to thee!" Alas, he egged me on -  it's not my Fault!

The Grape that can with Logic absolute  The Two-and-Seventy jarring Sects confute:  The subtle Alchemist that in a Trice  Life's leaden Metal into Gold transmute.

51

Get Gin and Ice; to Men in cultic, hot,  [Get Gin and Ice; to Men in cultic, hot,] Fanatic Arguments bid thee farewell: [Fanatic Arguments bid thee farewell:] Enjoy that solvent Claret's Taste that will That human Scourge, the sober State, dispel.

The mighty Mahmúd, the victorious Lord, That all the misbelieving and black Horde Of Fears and Sorrows that infest the Soul Scatters and slays with his enchanted Sword.

52

A Monarch fought: "Let die, a brutal Host!"  Whacking this Infidel that storms the Wall; And thy sad Cross? by Christ it is removed; Ah, thus Men's Dread does now the Vine forestall.

Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare Blaspheme the twisted Tendril as Snare?  A Blessing, we should use it, should we not?  And if a Curse -- why, then, Who set it there?

53

Hiss at the Grape, God's Gift to us with which We wash the wounded Heart? Let's not! Indeed, We shed our Torments. Ah, her blissful Joy! The curly Bine's a Weal - This be no Weed!

I must abjure the Balm of Life, I must,  Scared by some After-reckoning ta'en on trust,  Or lured with Hope of some Diviner Drink,  To fill the Cup--when crumbled into Dust!

54

Should I a pungent fluid Thrill refuse? A Cider? My! the Bottle seek to curb. And vow, in Faith's Contentment drunk, to wait For promised Juice from some Sublimer Herb. [For promised Juice from some Sublimer Herb.]

If but the Vine and Love-abjuring Band Are in the Prophet's Paradise to stand,  Alack, I doubt the Prophet's Paradise  Were empty as the hollow of one's Hand.

55

Herald that Gospel Joy ineffable; Ah, think: "That sacred Rapture!", but remove Hot hidden Passion - and Beer's Happiness?  Libation out! A Dew we don't approve.

But leave the Wise to wrangle, and with me The Quarrel of the Universe let be:  And, in some corner of the Hubbub couch'd,  Make Gameof that which makes as much of Thee.

56

Men fret: "Ah, seek the Gem of Truth above" - See how: encumbered quite with glib Debate. I have a Hunch all's Luck, or random Chance; We thumb our Noses at the Whim of Fate!

For in and out,