Come, Friend, Let Us Not Grieve for Tomorrow
Omar Khayyamخیام
ای دوست بیا تا غم فردا نخوریم
Come, friend, let us not grieve over tomorrow,
وین یک دم عمر را غنیمت شمریم
and let us count this one breath of life a gain.
فردا که ازین دیر فنا درگذریم
Tomorrow, when we pass on from this old house of passing,
با هفت‌هزارسالگان سربه‌سریم
we will be level with those seven thousand years gone.
A note for readers
The seven thousand years are the whole past age of the world, as medieval reckoning counted it: tomorrow we will be as long dead as the oldest of the dead. FitzGerald made from it the lines ‘To-morrow?—Why, To-morrow I may be / Myself with Yesterday’s Sev’n Thousand Years.’ As with all the Rubaiyat, whether Khayyam wrote it is uncertain.
More poemsشعرهای دیگر
مرغی دیدم نشسته بر باره طوس
در پیش نهاده کله کیکاووس
I saw a bird perched on the ramparts of Tus,
with the skull of Kay Kavus set down before it.
A Bird on the Walls of Tus
یکی قطره باران ز ابری چکید
خجل شد چو پهنای دریا بدید
A drop of rain fell from a cloud;
it was ashamed when it saw the breadth of the sea.
A Drop of Rain
ابتدای کار سیمرغ ای عجب
جلوه‌گر بگذشت بر چین نیم‌شب
The beginning of the Simorgh’s story, how wonderful:
in all his splendour he passed over China at midnight.