Omar Khayyám

"I was unable to devote myself to the learning of this al-jabr [algebra] and the continued concentration upon it, because of obstacles in the vagaries of time which hindered me; for we have been deprived of all the people of knowledge save for a group, small in number, with many troubles, whose concern in life is to snatch the opportunity, when time is asleep, to devote themselves meanwhile to the investigation and perfection of a science; for the majority of people who imitate philosophers confuse the true with the false, and they do nothing but deceive and pretend knowledge, and they do not use what they know of the sciences except for base and material purposes; and if they see a certain person seeking for the right and preferring the truth, doing his best to refute the false and untrue and leaving aside hypocrisy and deceit, they make a fool of him and mock him."

"Whoever thinks algebra is a trick in obtaining unknowns has thought it in vain. No attention should be paid to the fact that algebra and geometry are different in appearance. Algebras (jabbre and maqabeleh) are geometric facts which are proved by propositions five and six of Book two of Elements."

"Give me a flagon of red wine, a book of verses, a loaf of bread, and a little idleness. If with such store I might sit by thy dear side in some lonely place, I should deem myself happier than a king in his kingdom."

"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."

"Wake! For the Sun, who scatter'd into flight The Stars before him from the Field of Night, Drives Night along with them from Heav'n, and strikes The Sultan's Turret with a Shaft of Light."

"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.""

"Before the phantom of False morning died, Methought a Voice within the Tavern cried, "When all the Temple is prepared within, Why nods the drowsy Worshipper outside?""

"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.""

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

"Irám indeed is gone with all its 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."

"But still a Ruby kindles in the Vine, And many a Garden by the Water blows."

"In divine High piping Péhlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine! "Red Wine!"—the Nightingale cries to the Rose That yellow Cheek of her's to'incarnadine."

"That sallow cheek of hers to' incarnadine."

"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."

"Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring Your Winter-garment of Repentance fling: The Bird of Time has but a little way To flutter — and the Bird is on the Wing."

"And look — a thousand Blossoms with the Day Woke — and a thousand scatter'd into Clay."

"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."

"But come with old Khayyám, and leave the Lot Of Kaikobád and Kaikhosrú forgot: Let Rustum lay about him as he will, Or Hátim Tai cry Supper — heed them not."

"Each Morn a thousand Roses brings, you say; Yes, but where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?"

"With me along some Strip of Herbage strown That just divides the desert from the sown, Where name of Slave and Sultán scarce is known, And pity Sultán Mahmúd on his Throne."

"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!"

"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."

"Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough, A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse — and Thou Beside me singing in the Wilderness — And Wilderness is Paradise enow."

"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!"

""How sweet is mortal Sovranty!"—think some: Others — "How blest the Paradise to come!" Ah, take the Cash in hand and wave the Rest; Oh, the brave Music of a distant Drum!"

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

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

"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."

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

"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, and he lies fast asleep."

"Stamps o'er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep."

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

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

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

"Ah! my Belovéd, 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."

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

"Lo! some we loved, the loveliest and the 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."

"For some we loved, the loveliest and the best That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest."

"Ah, make the most of what we yet may 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!"

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

"Oh, come with old Khayyam, and leave the Wise To talk; one thing is certain, that Life flies; One thing is certain, and the Rest is Lies; The Flower that once has blown for ever dies."

"Of threats of Hell and Hopes of Paradise! One thing at least is certain — This Life flies."

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

"Why, all the Saints and Sages who discuss'd Of the Two Worlds so wisely — they are thrust."

"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."

"Came out by the same Door where in I went."

"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.""

"With them the seed of Wisdom did I sow, And with mine own hand wrought to make it grow; And this was all the Harvest that I reap'd — "I came like Water, and like Wind I go.""

"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."

"By the help of God and with His precious assistance, I say that Algebra is a scientific art. The objects with which it deals are absolute numbers and measurable quantities which, though themselves unknown, are related to "things" which are known, whereby the determination of the unknown quantities is possible. Such a thing is either a quantity or a unique relation, which is only determined by careful examination. What one searches for in the algebraic art are the relations which lead from the known to the unknown, to discover which is the object of Algebra as stated above. The perfection of this art consists in knowledge of the scientific method by which one determines numerical and geometric unknowns."