52. A reminder of what is too easily forgotten
Providing a way to move forward with mindfulness and strength.
suggested reading method
To best savour this artwork, please take a moment to eliminate distractions. Consider minimizing all other windows on your computer; putting other devices (phone, tv etc) aside; taking a deep breath, to the full extent of your lung capacity; and focusing solely on the “artwork” section.
Once you’ve processed that to your satisfaction, the rest of the post is optional reading, provided only to share my own impressions and reasons for choosing this piece.
artwork
Excerpt from “The Rubaiyat”
1
Wake! For the Sun, who scattered into flight
The Stars before him from the Field of Night,
Drives Night along with them from Heav’n and strikes
The Sultán’s Turret with a Shaft of Light.2
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 Worshiper outside?”3
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.”[…]
19
I sometimes think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Caesar bled;
That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropped in her Lap from some once lovely Head.20
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!21
Ah, my Belovéd, fill the Cup that clears
Today of past Regrets and future Fears:
Tomorrow!—Why, Tomorrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday’s Sev’n thousand Years.22
For some we loved, the loveliest and the best
That from his Vintage rolling Time hath pressed,
Have drunk their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to rest.[…]
71
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.72
And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky,
Whereunder crawling cooped we live and die,
Lift not your hands to It for help—for It
As impotently moves as you or I.
by Omar Khayyam, translated by Edward FitzGerald, and online via poets.org.
interpretation
I already knew “The Rubaiyat” was the ultimate in carpe diem messaging, but it hits different today. I learned something new, in the subtle way that the best poetry offers.
Let me back up a minute. When I’m feeling caught up in the drama of the day, I often self-soothe by breathing deeply, thinking of a worse version of the situation, and reminding myself things are actually not so bad. However, I don’t like how this method relies on the suffering of someone else for me to feel better.
So today, reading these verses again, I realized there’s a more optimistic way to give myself grace and perspective in tough moments. I can recall
the long legacy of human history, including “some we loved, the loveliest and the best”; and
the gift that every. moment. of life. offers – as the “moving finger” keeps on writing.
This feels not only important but necessary. Because, sometimes I wonder: in the grand scheme of all the experiences I could be having, why do I bother with unmemorable things like vacuuming into corners and doing yet another load of laundry? But that’s just it. This is the temple, I am the worshipper. No matter what I’m doing, no matter how well or poorly I might be feeling, that can become a moment of worship.
It’s wonderful how poetry reveals new layers each time. I mean, a version of this idea has already arisen on Spirit multiple times, such as my take on “This is Water”. But the vicissitudes of life and my mind are such that sometimes I forget. Sometimes I need a piece of art to hit me in a certain way, at a certain angle, to remember. This is why I studied this art form in college, and why it still fascinates me.
context
Omar Khayyam (1049 - 1131) was a Persian polymath who made meaningful contributions not only to poetry, but also to mathematics, astronomy and philosophy. Khayyam calculated the cycle of a solar calendar with such accuracy that his calendar formed the backbone of the Persian calendar for nearly 1000 years. While some scholarship now doubts whether all the quatrains are correctly attributed to Khayyam, he entered the popular imagination thanks to Edward FitzGerald’s English translation in the late 1800s.
Edward FitzGerald (1809 - 1883) was an English poet and writer who studied Spanish and Persian poetry at Cambridge and Oxford. He also translated his own versions of the Agamemnon, two Oedipus tragedies, and more. FitzGerald’s translation of “The Rubaiyat” was apparently slow to catch on until promoted by contemporaries such as the Pre-Raphaelites and Celtic scholar Whitley Stokes.
What in your life reminds you to carpe diem? Feel free to share your own thoughts in the comments!
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