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Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám

Omar Khayyám

Paperback | Pages: 52 pages

Rating: 4.18 | 17172 Users | 1475 Reviews

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Title	:	Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám
Author	:	Omar Khayyám
Book Format	:	Paperback
Book Edition	:	Special Edition
Pages	:	Pages: 52 pages
Published	:	June 30th 2005 by Dodo Press (first published 1859)
Categories	:	Poetry. Classics. Philosophy. Literature. Fiction

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The Rubáiyát of Omar Khayyám (Persian: رباعیات عمر خیام‎) is the title that Edward FitzGerald gave to his translation of a selection of poems, originally written in Persian and numbering about a thousand, attributed to Omar Khayyám (1048–1131), a Persian poet, mathematician and astronomer. A ruba'i is a two-line stanza with two parts (or hemistichs) per line, hence the word rubáiyát (derived from the Arabic language root for "four"), meaning "quatrains".

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Original Title:	رباعیات الخيام
ISBN:	1905432453 (ISBN13: 9781905432455)
Edition Language:	English

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Ratings: 4.18 From 17172 Users | 1475 Reviews

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What is most vital is that Fitzgerald completely misconstrued the meaning of the Persian mystic. He regarded Khayaams poem as a statement of hedonism and atheism Graves discloses, on the contrary, that the poem expresses profound religious faith. Perhaps Fitzgerald lacked sufficient knowledge of Persian. Perhaps the symbolism of the Rubaiyyat simply eluded him.Excerpt from the "original" Rubaiyyat which isn't original at all and perhaps that is the only truth it contains, who knows. Apparently,

If you were ever to compile the different odes to alcohol (there are likely to be very many in different languages and dialects, recited in different stages of inebriation), then this would have to rank right at the very top. The beauty and wonder with which Omar Khayyam has constructed his poem is a joy to behold. The comparisons stun you, for you'd have never seen it that way before. You almost get the feeling that you're sitting in one of those taverns in Arabia, that we so often see in

The author is clearly biased in the direction of the Grape ; which makes for difficulties of empathy for this Malt Man. [curiously that this edition I've got was printed in the DDR.]

Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, Omar KhayyamOmar Khayyam was born at Naishapur in Khorassan in the latter half of Eleventh, and died within the First Quarter of Twelfth Century. The Slender Story of his Life is curiously twined about that of two other very considerable Figures in their Time and Country: one of whom tells the Story of all Three. This was Nizam ul Mulk, Vizier to Alp Arslan the Son, and Malik Shah the Grandson, of Toghrul Beg the Tartar, who had wrested Persia from the feeble Successor

I feel a bit awkward reviewing a book this short, so Ill keep my review short as well. There are some very fine verses here, especially good to read before a night of drunken foolery. Although FitzGeralds translation is known for being somewhat inaccurate, I wouldnt even consider trading it for a more scrupulous edition. Instead, why not view the poems as an artistic collaboration between two great poets, across time and space? When small-minded tin-eared scholarsTake a look at his verse and

It is a flash from the stage of non-belief to faith,There is no more than a syllable between doubt and certainty:Prize this precious moment dearly,It is our life's only fruit. I had a palm size edition of Edward Fitzgerald's translation. He changed his translation over the years and there are big differences between some of the different published editions. Reading this, the Avery translation, was a shock because none of the verses were recognisable. At first I found myself like Pnin hankering

I first read this as a child of maybe 11-12 and could make neither head nor tail out of it. But the book (which belonged to my great-uncle) had impressive illustrations for each quatrain, and this drew me in. It was only much later that I could appreciate the beauty of Fitzgerald's language (yes, I am talking about the Fitzgerald translation, which I understand is almost an original work by itself).Awake! For the sun in the bowl of nightHas flung the stone which puts the stars to flight;And lo!