General Poetry posted February 6, 2018 |
READ NOTES PLEASE: aaba rhyme in iambic pentameter
In Honor Of Omar Kahayyam
by easyeverett1
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Recognized |
Omar Khayyam was a Persian born mathmatician, astronomer, and poet. He was born 18 May 1048 in Nishapur, in northeastern Iran. His poetic masterpiece the Rubaiyyat of Omar Khayyam was written in the form of quatrains (rubaiyats) as was almost all of his poetry. His prodigious gifts of intellect were recognized quite early in his life and he was given the advantage of studying under Muwaffaq Nishaburi, the greatest teacher in Khayhyyam's region. During his life he was recognized, in Iran, more for his genius as a mathmatician and astronomer. However, in 1859, when Edward FitzGerald, an English academic and writer quietly and without pretension published his translation of Khayyam's epic poem, anonymously, in a small pamphlet that remained essentially unknown until discovered, in 1860, by English artist and poet Dante Gabriel Rossetti, the poem became one of the most wide read poem's every written. FitGerald's translated poem has become a classic in English literature for its own brilliance as a stand alone poem with unique merit on its own. Below are a few quatrains from FitzGerald's translation but he certainly only represents the first English version of the poem and many think other, later translations are more accurate but most agree FitzGerald captured the poetic music of the original with unique style and brilliance.
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!
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
'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.
Hope you all find time to peruse more of Kahayaam's many, many poems. You will be well rewarded for the effort. easyeverett
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and 2 member cents. 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!
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on; nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
'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.
Hope you all find time to peruse more of Kahayaam's many, many poems. You will be well rewarded for the effort. easyeverett
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