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Literature/Persian Heritage:
Rubaiyat of Khayyam
VI.
And David’s
lips are lockt; but in divine
High-piping
Pehlevi, with “Wine! Wine! Wine!
“Red
Wine!”—the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That sallow
cheek of hers to’ incarnadine.
VII.
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.
VIII.
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.
IX.
Each Morn a
thousand Roses brings, you say:
Yes, but
where leaves the Rose of Yesterday?
And this
first Summer month that brings the Rose
Shall take
Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.
X.
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.
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