large/1708/rubaiyat_a_librivox_64kb_mp3/rubaiyat_1_khayyam_64kb_66
large/1708/rubaiyat_a_librivox_64kb_mp3/rubaiyat_1_khayyam_64kb
English
1708
LXIX. Indeed, the Idols I have loved so long Have done my Credit in Men's Eye much wrong: Have drown'd my Honour in a shallow Cup, And sold my Reputation for a Song. INDEED THE IDOLS I HAVE LOVED SO LONG HAVE DONE MY CREDIT IN MEN'S EYE MUCH WRONG HAVE DROWNED MY HONOUR IN A SHALLOW CUP AND SOLD MY REPUTATION FOR A SONG
Vessel of a more ungainly Make: "They sneer at me for leaning all awry; What? did the Hand then of the Potter shake?" LXIV. Said one--"Folks of a surly Tapster tell, And daub his Visage with the Smoke of Hell; They talk of some strict Testing of us--Pish! He's a Good Fellow, and 'twill all be well." LXV. Then said another with a long-drawn Sigh, "My Clay with long oblivion is gone dry: But, fill me with the old familiar Juice, Methinks I might recover by-and-bye!" LXVI. So, while the Vessels one by one were speaking, One spied the little Crescent all were seeking: And then they jogg'd each other, "Brother! Brother! Hark to the Porter's Shoulder-knot a-creaking!" ***** LXVII. Ah, with the Grape my fading Life provide, And wash my Body whence the life has died, And in a Windingsheet of Vineleaf wrapt, So bury me by some sweet Gardenside. LXVIII. That ev'n my buried Ashes such a Snare Of Perfume shall fling up into the Air, As not a True Believer passing by But shall be overtaken unaware.  FANCY IN AN AFTER RAGE DESTROY NONE ANSWERED THIS BUT AFTER SILENCE SPAKE A VESSEL THAT THEY MORE UNGAINLY MAKE THEY SNEER AT ME FOR LEANING ALL AWRY WHAT DID THE HAND THEN OF THE POTTER SHAKE SAID ONE FOLKS OF A SURLY TAP TO TELL AND DAUB HIS VISAGE WITH THE SMOKE OF HELL THEY TALK OF SOME STRICT TESTING OF US PISH HE'S A GOOD FELLOW AND TWILL ALL BE WELL THEN SAID ANOTHER WITH A LONG DRAWN SIGH MY CLAY WITH LONG OBLIVION IS GONE DRY BUT FILL ME WITH THE OLD FAMILIAR JUICE METHINKS I MIGHT RECOVER BY AND BY SO ALL THE VESSELS ONE BY ONE WERE SPEAKING ONE SPIED THE LITTLE CRESCENT ALL WERE SEEKING AND THEN THEY JOGGED EACH OTHER BROTHER BROTHER HEART TO THE POTTER'S SHOULDER NOT TO CREAKING AH WOULD THE GREAT MY FADING LIFE PROVIDE AND WASH MY BODY WHENCE THE LIFE HAS DIED AND IN A WINDING SHEET OF VINE LEAF WRAPPED SO BURY ME BY SOME SWEET GARDEN SIDE THAT E'EN MY BURIED ASHES SUCH A SNARE OF PERFUME SHALL FLING UP INTO THE AIR AS NOT A TRUER PASSING BY BUT SHALL BE OVERTAKEN UNAWARE
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