RUBAIYAT DE OMAR KHEYYAM. To not making a mistake, friends!

Because some horrendous translations walk here that end up giving fear! They don't have the poetry neither the necessary force, and it seems that he/she had made them a boring secretary with a dictionary in one day in that taenia that to leave exactly at the 18.00 hours to be given a pololeo gorging that you already know Kheyyam was a sage from old Persia, and for it the names something strange of the places that mentions. As the, most is now single powder. Rubai means verse. Rubaiyats is the plural. But the memory of its words lives in this translation that conserves the fresh and transparent spirit of the grape. RUBAIYAT DE OMAR KHEYYAM. 1 Despertaosdespertaos, sleepers that the dawn I already throw the stone to the night sea driving away the stars, and the Hunter of Shades it fastened in a sheaf of light the tower of the silence. 2 In the hour in that the dawn appears for East they are heard in the tavern some voices that you/they scream: "Lift you, comrades, and fill your glasses, because he/she already becomes agitated the candy he/she came from the existence." 3 Get up and he/she forgets this ephemeral world. Be happy; it takes advantage of each instant of joy. If Nature, woman finally, was constant, would not it have arrived you of being wanted the shift? 4 In the tavern, the rooster throws his sharp song. Those that wait to the threshold exclaim impatient: "Open up that is brief the time that we have left, and the trip that we must even undertake, he/she never has return." 5 You know your for that to the dawn the rooster, with their sharp song, does he/she complain? Because he/she saw in the mirror of the clear morning that had lapsed one night in your life without you realized. 6 Oh!, the time of my years has already passed but beautiful. He/she left the spring of my life, and the bird

of youth it has raised their quick flight. Not you when he/she has come neither when he/she has left. 7 The time, relentless, goes flowing. That it has been of Baghdad and of Balk? A light close contact can to kill the rose. He/she drinks, and when looking at the stars he/she meditates in the cultures that you swig the desert. 8 Don't try to achieve the happiness that the life hard that that a sigh. The powder of Djemschid and Kai - Kobad, in the sun they dance in whirl. The life, the world, alone they are fictions and dreams. 9 For the destartalado tavern that is this world, whose only doors are the night and the day, that of cavalier splendid and opulent sultans they passed an instant and then they left! 10 The facts, the insistences of the life are as noisy hunts. Quick they escape the days vocingleros, as if was hares to which an eternal hunter pursues. 11 In a ramshackle fortress that I rise in another time their domes to the sky, and of the one that until the kings they kissed the thresholds, listen a hoopoe that he/she asked": Where? Do tell me, where, where?" 12 Only the lizard travels the fortresses where I enjoy Djemschid of the glory and of the wine. And the onagro goes for a walk on Bahram the big one without they can their steps to pull up him of the dream. 13 On the palace of Thus I saw fly a vulture that asia among their claws the skull of Kai-Kus and he/she said with scoff": Unhappy, the sound of the trompétas, where this now? He/she answers." 14 To anybody I requested him the existencia.Por that I make an effort in welcoming indifferent as much as

he/she gives me the life. For that will have to leave ignoring to that I owe my step for the earth? 15 I didn't know for that chance brought me to the world and they gave me the life. To that, then, to complain that this it is brief, if I should even thank it? That I am served wine that I want to take advantage of it. 16 Since the life happens that but he/she gives if it is bitter or if it is sweet? It doesn't care where you are when it arrives the end. He/she drinks, then. He/she enjoys that after us the moon must die and to be born many times. 17 To the world to that we come? Then for that leave? That he/she wants this existence that has been imposed? The souls burn under their weight and they become in ashy, but I am not able to see the blaze. 18 Time very recently, when going to the tavern it arose suddenly before my a glistening angel. A two-handled jar took, and he/she wanted that proves their content. I knew then that it was he/she came. 19 He/she came! I believe it Dios.Es of those but beautiful samples of their power. Who will be, because, the fool that he/she rejects him? To that to deprive us of the if it is good? If it is bad that villain the one that has created it will be? 20 He/she came! Your you are the great Mahmud, the powerful one Mister that drives away with their wonderful alfanje that somber hive of hardships and terrors that in an incessant way they burden us the soul. 21 He/she came! Your you achieve whenever they are puzzled with logic the seventy two sages that unceasingly discuss. You are the alchemist that you transmute in gold that lead of our daily existence. 22 Believe me, he/she drinks wine. The wine is eternal life, I filter that the youth returns us. With wine

and make happy companies, the station of the roses it returns. He/she enjoys the fleeting moment that is the life. 23 If you give wine to the mount truth how soon he/she dances. Alone the ninnies have calumniated to the wine. For that so much insistence so that to the one it gives up? The soul that encourages all body maybe is not? 24 A sip of good came it is worth but that the empire of this world; the cover of a wineskin that a thousand lives, and the cloth with which you dry the wine of your lips, but, truly that a thousand priestly mantels. 25 But that the Kingdom of Kaus, but even that the empire of Thus, and but that the throne of Kobad, is worth a sip of wine. It is worth but, when it dawns the day, the burp of a drunk that the prayer of a hypocrite. 26 Oh! That splendor equals to the ruby of the wine when the Moon and Venus shine? That better thing the bartenders rot to buy with the money that we give them in exchange for the wine that you/they serve us? 27 They say that that that he/she drinks for it is always condemned. If it is certain that to the one that it likes of the pleasure and of the wine they condemn to the hell, you must find one day the flat Eden as the palm of your hand. 28 Don't give up the wine while it is possible. How many lamentations would continue! The rose it half-opens their robe and he/she sings cheerful the bird. Do you believe this favorable moment to the renucia? 29 Oh, your that for above these of the earthly powers! That day sits down better the wine to the soul? Don't you know it? Domingo, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday.., night and day. 30 Thousand dogmatic fatuous they preach the different thing that it is the body of the soul, the sky of the hell.

I preach another thing: the wine disappears fears, and he/she gives us the yearned still. 31 Your you show off of sage, but past and future they torment you. Between both you wanted an eddy of peace. Believe me: it changes all that great madness for a glass of wine where to drown your impotence. 32 Friends, with good came you feed me, for that it is changed in ruby the amber of my face. Make that when he/she dies I am washed with wine and be my wooden casket of stump. 33 Then my ashes, although low earth are, the air filled with intoxicant aroma; and the believer, when passing beside my tomb, without being able to remedy it it must feel drunk. 34 Imagine rich. Suppose that you are the owner of the but beautiful palace. He/she enjoys, because that in the world everything dies. It imagines that, tired, they offer you a seat that another it occupies as soon as you run off with. 35 Hear me, youngster. This rose, this grass, they are fresh, lusty; tomorrow both will be withered. He/she drinks wine and he/she catches the rose now, because alone of looking at it it must exchange powdered. 36 He/she already leaves your selfishness; you don't fear the poverty. Don't pursue the gold. And he/she drinks that a life so full with griefs it is necessary to always pass it in a deep or intoxicated dream of wine. 37 Between ungodliness and faith so alone a blow exists, as well as it separates a simple blow you doubt and convictions. He/she enjoys the present blow, that this the whole life in the blow that happens. 38 Don't know about another path that that of the tavern, neither aspire to another thing that to wine, love and music.

With the glass in the hand, with the wineskin to the back, he/she drinks, he/she drinks, lover, and he/she remains silent, he/she always remains silent. 39 Youngster, I request you that when blunting the dawn play, sing and fill to overflow my glass. because of a hundred thousand Djemschids and a hundred thousand Kais, the cycle of old stations they spread for earth. 40 Love, takes the glass and the jar; you go to the field, next to the stream, and he/she enjoys. He/she thinks that with efebos the same as your, gallant as the cypress and beautiful which the Moon, the Wheel made jars and glasses. 41 Notice that rose that opens up to the breeze morning. Looking at their lusty beauty the nightingale is enraptured. Let us drink. How many roses that the wind defoliated they have become powdered! 42 Nature believes the rose and it destroys it then, tornandola to the earth. If powder instead of water aspires the clouds, until the I finish day of the world, it would rain blood of in love. 43 We were been with their roses the Iran. Where he/she has gone the chalice of Djemschid? But the vine among so much he/she gives liquid rubies, and already all are in flower the gardens that are from the river to the banks. 44 Where a red rose, vertiose is born in the past of a prince the blood. Of the mole of an efebo the violet proceeds. The flowers of the hyacinth they were born of a forehead that was smooth and brilliant. 45 In the grassland that arrives on the river that he/she knows our dreams, lie down sweetly. Perhaps their grass has arisen of some body that in another time it was perfectly beautiful. 46

Who knows if that flower that he/she is born in the riverside of the stream it does come from some corrupt lips? It crosses their grass soon. It arose perhaps of the powder of a juvenile face that was as the rose. 47 After so many centuries there are dawns and twilights and the stars follow their preset course. Soft Pisa in the mud; the clods that you squash they were the eyes of a beautiful efebo perhaps. 48 Ah, if was possible to live in the rest! If an end existed in this long route! If after a thousand years he/she went him dable to the man to resurge of the earth the same as the grass is born! 49 My heart pidiome": - Kheyyam, because so much knows, self teach." I then pronounce the first one letter of the alphabet. And the one said": - Already you. Alif it is the first letter of a name without final." 50 I remember that one afternoon he/she observes a potter in a bazaar. I saw him like it kneaded the mud with the feet, and to my hearing I arrive an aching voice that he/she said" - Care! The same thing that your I have been."

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