Translation:The Roubayyat bi Omar Khayyam

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The Roubayyat bi Omar Khayyam
by Omar Khayyam, translated by Wikisource

This is the Scots translation (o'ersettin) of Jean Baptiste Nicolas's French translation of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

Introductory poem:

1-Omar Khayam A brocht tae ye
A bottle o wine,
Frae the French place Galé,
Drink it sooner or syne;
2-For A hae brocht a bottle o wine.
Omar Khayam A brocht a caup
O gowden, gowden soup,
Bricht in the nicht,
Liquor that kanæ droup;
A found it in the airms o a knicht;
3-Omar Khayam A brocht tae ye,
Frae ma countrie, an auld drink,
That's tradeetion, we aye bring,
Som uisge baha*, whisky o É**.
4-Omar Khayam an a' the troop,
Nou let us drink, an be merrie,
Nae mair sentences, we are jolly,
An jolly fou, richt without loop!
5-Whit daes please me, sae much,
In Omar Khayam's companie,
Is that they kent hou tae drink,
An that they drank sae much,
That they were ne'er drunk.
6-Som bi that court, wer' richt mensefu,
Richt, brisk, smairt, aye readin bouks,
That affore days o lust, they kent hou
They shoud dae the things, an hae tae look.


Bi the Persian makar Omar Khayam (1048-1131).

Jami Rose Garden.jpg

A collection o four-verses poems, noticin the unthirldom o the speirit, the beauty o the leed uisit, an the manners o the tide an o the place.


1Ane morn, A herd camin frae our tavern a vys, sayin:
Com tae me, jolly drinkers! rise up, an com tae poor
an ither caup o wine, affore that weird coms
Tae poor that o our life.


O thou wha in the hail universe is the chosen object
o ma hert! Thou wha tae me is dearest than the saul that is wizzen
o me life, than the e'en that lichten me! Thar is næthing, O eedol,
mair precious than life; oh! thou art tae me hunderd tyms mair precious!


Wha did cairy thee, this nicht, thee sae fu' o wine?
Wha did, tirrin the kiverin veil that kiverit thee,
cairy thee till herebi? Wha, hinderly, brings thee,
Than the wind mair rapidly, tae tizle the lowe o him wha alreidy burnit
[while thou wis awa'.
Twa luvers bi Reza Abbasi.


We hae sufferit the trial o wae an o dule in this warld in whilka
we're refugees (anely a speal). Alake! næ meith o creation haes iver
been exponit, an sae we gang awa' o it wi a rue in our herts,
for næthing about it we ne'er lernit.


Och khadje, mak ane o our wisses possible,
kep yer braith in yer mooth, an cairy us tae the way o God
Shurly we dae shank richt; it's ye wha looks agley;
Gang tae heal yer e'en, an let us in peace.


Rise up, com, com, an, for ma hert's saitisfee,
Gie me exposeetion o ane quirk: bring me speedy
a jaur o wine, an let us drink affore that ane wed dae
jaurs o our ain smurach.


When A'll be daid, wash me wi vine's bree;
insteid o guid-wirds, sing o'er ma graff reizes o the caup an o the wine,
an gin ye will tae meet me in the Last Day;
seek me unner the smurach in front o the door o the Tavern.


Sin næane coud iver anser about the morra,
pour as speed as possible yer fu' o wae hert;
drink, O luesom moon! Drink in a vermilion caup, acause
the firmament moon will turn a lang syne (around the yird), affore it coud find


Coud the luver be the hail year fou, doyt, in a patience for the wine,
Gekkit! Acause when we hae the healthy wit, dule an sorrae belie us;
but are we jast drunk an fou, an sae,
be whit it shoud be!


In God's name! Whit coud expect the wiseman
wha binds his hert tae the blaflums an tae the fause treizurs o this Wae's palas?
Och! He wha caws me a drunkart is maist wrang,
acause, hou coud he see, aboon us, thar, merk o a tavern?


The Qoran, that fowks cord tae ca' " the soublim leed ",
is nætheless reid a few tides, somtyms, an næ in a permanent way,
whilst onywhaur, in the caup, thar is a fu' o licht vers, we are
pleizit tae read aye an ev'rywhaur.


Thou wha disnæ drink wine, dae næ baurm the drunkarts,
acause A am, aye!, ready tae renunce tae God, gin he
speaks a wird tae me tae næ drink wine. Thou glorifeest thyself
acause thou drinkst næ wine, but this glory disnæ fit thou wha daes things a
[hunderd tyms mair shamefu' than drouthiness.


Tho me person be bonnie, tho the perfeum herrit out o me be agreeable,
tho the complexion o ma face pingles wi that o the tulpi,
an that ma waist is sclender as the waist o the cypress,
thar wis næ exposeetion tae me o why A hae been bi ma Heivenly painter,
[here drew.


A want tae drink aloot o wine sae that the stuch coud get out
o the syl when A woud get in, an that drinkers hawf drunk frae the affore-nicht
wha com tae visit ma graff woud, bi the effect o anely the stuch,
Fa' thar, daid drunk.


In the countrie o Howp bind yerself wi as mony herts as ye kan;
in the ane o presence, bind yerself wi a perfect freend, acause,ye maun ken,
hunderd kaabas, made o syl an watter dinnæ hae the wirth o a guid hert.
Sae, let yer kaaba* here, an gang tae seek a hert.


The day A tak in ma haund a caup o wine an, in the joy o ma saul,
A becom hail-drunk, sae, in this steit o fire that devours me,
A see hunderd ferlies nou realizit, then, som wirds as cleer as the purest watter
seem tae com tae expose the meestery whilka is in ilka thing.


Acause a day is anely twa halves lang, haste tae drink wine,
cleer wine, acause, thou maun ken, thou niver will live yer life again,
an, as thou kenst that this warld malafousters awthing,
be like it, eemitate it, an malafouster thyself in the wine.


We are gien tae the wine's wills, it is wi joy that we offer
our sauls in sacreefice tae the smilin lips o this divine bree. O ravishin
spectacle! Our caup-beirer hae in ane haund the bottom o the gardevine,
an in the ither the caup that o'ergangs, as tae inveet us tae drink the purest o his

  • The kaaba, or ka3ba, or kaعba or ka'ba, is (Arabic " الكعبة": the cube) is a cubic monument in the Islamic warld, that haes mony religious significaitions, an is ane o the maist important Islamic seembols, that is gey respectit.


The distance atween faith an infidelity is a braith;
the distance atween dout an shurness is o a braith an a';
let us pass jollily this precious lenth (that's a braith) acause
our life is twynd frae daith bi anely the distance o a braith.

Behzad advice ascetic.jpg


O weird's wheel! Hashery coms frae yer contermit hate.
Tyrania is for ye an act o yer favourite, that ye commit frae the beginin o the
centuries, an ye an aw, O Yird, gin we begin tae seek under yer skin,
Mony are the luesom wunners we woud find in thar!


Ma turn o existence jast fotchit in guid picklie days.
It haes past like passes desert's Wind. Sae, while A hae
still a livin braith, thar are twa days A shoud ne'er care about:
The day that is næ com, an the day that is past.


This precious ruby coms frae a by-ordinair mine, this unique pairl
is bi a by-ordinair seegle* ensealit; our different conclusions on this matter
are fause, acause the quirk o true luv is in anither leid exposit,
whilka kannæ be perceivit.


It is the day, that A am young, A want tae spend it drinkin wine:
Shure that ma pleisur is.
Dinnæ winze it, acause o its bitterness: it is braw, the wine;
An as bitter as ma life is.


O ma puir hert! as yer wanweird is tae be mittlit in yer bloud bi
wae an sorrae, as yer naitur is tae be ilka new day bi a new wae
pursuit; say, O saul! Expose tae me whit ye're daein in me,
gin ye e'en shall, ane day, leave me.


Ye kannæ pretend tae see the day the morra;
Tae think o it woud be wouddream;
Gin ye're næ sleepin, spend næ that tide in dreamin
that tide whilka shoud soon gang awa'.


We shoud næ chap at ivery door without needin it.
We shoud accept Ill as we shoud accept Guid herebi
acause we shoudnæ play but wi the number o points
that we see o'er the dice bi weird lenchit on this chessplay-herebi.


This jaur haes been like me a luvin craitur; sae sairie!
It haes soucht acause o the hair o such a bonnie youth;
this haundle tae its upper pairt bound wis an airm
och! An airm around the hip o a lassie.


Affore me an you, thar had been mony gloamins,
Thar had been mony dawins,
It is why awthing shurly rotates thar in the heiven,
be attentive when ye kevel on thar: mebbe on the e'e o a maiden!
[The apple o the e'e o an eerie lassie.

  • seula in Gaelic Scots. It coms frae a Latin root (sigillum) but wis transformit. Tae be relatit tae Dutch: " zegel ".


Baith eedol's temple an kaaba, are worshipers's hooses
the ringin o the bell is næthing but a praise o the Almichty.
The mehrab, the kirk, the rosary, the cross, are a' different
[weys tae gie such an aith tae Divinity.


A kannæ tae baith guid an ill ma saicret reveal.
A kannæ eik onything tae the exposeetion o ma thochts;
A see a place A kannæ descrive;
A hae a saicret A kannæ reveal.


The things that were were alreidy merkit on the tablet o creation.
The pent-brush (o the universe) is aye awa' frae Guid an Ill.
God printit tae weird whit shoud thar be printint:
our efforts in onywey wirth soon smurach.


Ma fause sillar is næ currency herebi an for us. The besom hae
soopit our jolly hoosie. An auld man coms frae the tavern an says tae me:
Drink wine, ma fere, acause thar are mony lives tae be born
in yer lang sleep.


Fore Weird's decreet, næthing succeeds, but tae be resignit.
Amang men næthing succeeds but their forms an hypocrisie
A paukit, wi a' the guiles that Mankynd iver creatit;
Weird hae aye ma projects spylt an wastit.


Gin a streenger shaws his lealty, consider him as ane o yer sibs;
Gin ane o yer sibs maks traison (in ony kynd o things), look at him
like ye look at ane ill-myndit body. Gin ane poison heals ye,
consider it as a remeed, gin a remeed poisons ye, poison it is.


Thar is næ hert that haes næ been hairmit, acause thou wis awa'.
Thar is næ guidseein bein that haes næ been unner the cantrip o thy chairm,
an, thou in yer mynd thar is næ place for ony hert,
næbody in this warld, haes ne'er been bi thou unquietit.


When A'm næ drunk, ma happiness is næ complete.
When A'm in a patience for the wine, ignorance replaces ma reason.
Thar is an intermediary steit atween bein drunk an haein healthy wit.
Och! Wi happiness A say A'm slave o this steit: thar, is life.


Wha woud iver trou that he wha did the caup create
coud think about tae malafouster it? A' these bonnie heids,
a' these bonnie airms, a' this chairmin haunds, bi whilka luv
they hae been creatit? Bi whilka hate malafousterit?


It is acause ye are drunk that ye're feart for Daith an
that ye hate the bossiness, acause it is obvious that frae this bossiness
is a pairt o the aye-livinness. Syne ma saul is waukent bi Jesus's braith,
eeternal daith haes gaun awa' frae me.


Eemitate the tulpi whilka blooms in the noorouz; tak like her
a caup in yer haund, an, gin thar is occasion o it,
drink, drink wine wi happiness, in the companie o a wee bonnie
lassie wi chafts haein this flour's complexion, acause this blue wheel, like a
[wind, wi a suddentie, kan com an smash ye.


Sae, things daenæ gang as our will is: sae, why our will an efforts?
We are constantly vext, an sayin: « wae's me! »,
we souch, aye sayin: « Ah! We cam but umwhile an a'!
An sae, ere lang, early, we gang awa' an a'»!


Acause, heivenly wheel an weird hae niver faurt ye,
Thar is næ reason tae count seiven skies or tae believe that thar are
eicht? Thar is (A repeat it) twa days A shoud næ care about:
The day that is næ com, an the day that is past.


O Khayam! Why are thou mornin a sin commitit?
Whit eezment findst thee bi torturin thee sickwey?
Wha ne'er sinnit will ne'er ken the lithe o the pardon.
It is acause o the sin that the pardon exists: why are thou afeart?


Næ ane kan gang ahint the meesterious curtain
o God's saicrets, næ ane kan iver shank in thaim;
we hae næ ither hoosie than the Yird,
O we rue on ourselves! Acause that is a fer quirkie quirk.


A hae a guid bit socht in this inconsistent warld,
in whilka we're refugees (anely a speal); A hae socht tae find out results in
ivery matter; och! A hae anely found that the moon wirthes white an that is
laithly the cypress, affore thy fine waist.


In the moskee, in the madrassa, in the kirk an in the synagogue,
fowks are afeart o the Hell an seek the Heiven; but the root o that fear
haes ne'er gainit the hert o wha enterit
in the Almichty's saicrets.


Ye hae been a' around the warld, an sae! A' ye hae seen thar
is næthing, a' ye hae herd thar, is næthing. Ye went ben
in a' the universe, an in ithers, a' that is næthing;
ye hae regairdit in yerself, in yer chaumer, that is næthing an a'.


Som nicht, A dreamit A saw a wiceman sayin : the sleep,
ma fere, haes ne'er made bloomin ony happiness's rose :
why shoud ye commit such an act, that's like daith ? drink
wine, insteid, acause ye'll shur sleep unner the syl.


Gin Man's hert were kennin preceese life's saicrets,
it woud ken an a', affore ye'll die, God's saicrets.
Gin the day ye're wi yerself an ken næthing,
whit will ye ken the morra, when out o yerself ?


That day the skies will be confusit,
when the starns will be daurkit,
A'll stop on thy wey, o eedol ! an thy plaidie ta'en,
A'll ask thee why thou haest ma life ta'en.


We shoud ne'er say our saicrets
Tae the unwicelike gadgies,
e'en tae the nichtingel,
think about the rue human beins suffer, bi kepin silent.


O the caup-beirer ! Gin tide's here, reidy tae brak us baith,
this warld woud ne'er be a place for baith o us.
But, ony wey trou that, as the caup o wine is atween our haunds,
we hae God atween our haunds.
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