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Persian Poetry - Khayyam Quatrains

این یک دو سه روزه نوبتِ عمر گذشت
چون آب به جویبار و چون باد به دشت
هرگز غم دو روز مرا یاد نگشت
روزی که نیامده است و روزی که گذشت

Into this Universe, and why not knowing,
Nor whence, like Water willy-nilly flowing:
And out of it, as Wind along the Waste,
I know not whither, willy-nilly blowing.

افسوس که نامه جوانی طی شد
آن تازه بهارِ زندگانی طی شد
آن مُرغ طرب که نام او بود شَباب
افسوس ندانم که کِی آمد کی شد

Yet Ah, that Spring should vanish with the Rose!
That Youth's sweet-scented manuscript should close!
The Nightingale that in the branches sang,
Ah whence, and whither flown again, who knows!


افسوس که سرمایه زِ کف بیرون شد
وَز دستِ اجل بسی جگرها خون شد
کس نامد ازآن جهان که پُرسم از وی
که احوالِ مسافران و دنیا چون شد

Strange, is it not? that of the myriads who
Before us pass'd the door of Darkness through
Not one returns to tell us of the Road,
Which to discover we must travel too.

English translations by Edward FitzGerald.




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