Quality of Poetry
Poetry is nothing but right words in right place. But, it is much more than mere words - it is food for the soul and a fire
that keeps eternally burning at the gateway of love. It has touched my soul as well, as it has touched countless others' all over
this kingdom of God. The people need poetry that will be their own secret to keep them
awake forever, and bathe them in the bright-haired wave of its breathing. Poetry can communicate the actual
quality of experience with a subtlety and precision unapproachable by any other means. But, if the poetry and the intelligence
of the age lose touch with each other, poetry will cease to matter much and the age will be lacking in finer awareness. When power narrows the
areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, potery cleanses.
Poetry is not concerned with telling with telling people what to do, but with extending our knowledge of good and evil, perhaps making the necessity
for action more urgent and its nature more clear, but only leading us to the point where it is possible for us to make a rational and moral choice.
Poetry keeps people alive, because poetry itself lives - it has a life of its own. It has an extra hand, which can caress or tickle. This hand can even
clench and fight. The hand is hot! Take it or leave it.
Poetry and music keeps us on a right track through our journey towards that elusive goal of finding contentment and happiness and our eternal quest for the
meaning of life. Music is the best means we have of digesting time. Whereas, poetry is a way of taking life by the throat. A verbal art like poetry is
reflective - it stops to think. Music is immediate - it goes on to become. Poetry is what Milton saw when he went blind. And poetry is what Omar Khayyam saw
when he fell in love with his Creator and His Creation.
"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."
.........Omar Khayyam
Omar Khayyam's Poetry
Recovering from the the end of an unhappy marriage, a middle-aged Victorian gentleman named Edward FitzGerald set himself to the task of translating into English
a hundred or so lyric stanzas, known as rubai in Persian, written by Omar Khayyam, a twelth-century Persian astronomer and a Sufi poet.
FitzGerald
found great consolation in Khayyam's skeptical, sensuous poems, which extol the virtues of loving deeply in the present moment. Preserving the Persian poet's four-line
verse form, FitzGerald edited, embellished, and arranged the quatrains in dramatic sequence, making his contribution far more than that of mere translator. He published
the Rubaiyat anonymously in 1859, and it was an immediate success. However, even FitzGerald's intimate knowledge of Persian and deep literary talent, has not been
able to completely capture that lyrical, musical, and passionate flow of Khayyam's rendition in Faarsi (Persian language). To really enjoy Omar Khayyam, you must know Faarsi
and be able to read his original masterpiece in the lovely language.
Nonetheless, it is my pleasure to share with you some of the perals and gems of Omar Khayyam's poetry which I have found whilst sifting through the sands of time.
1.Awake!
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.
2.Dreaming
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."
3.And, As The Cock Crew
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."
Read On, Dear Friend, Read On
Now the New Year Reviving Old Desires
Some More Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
Please E-mail Ahmed H. Makhdoom