Granville Bantock (1868-1946) - Omar Khayyam

Prelude (1. Teil)
Wake! For the sun, who scatteres into flight
Before the phantom of false morning died
And as the cock crew, those who stood before
Now the new year reviving old desires
Iram indeed is gone with all his rose
Whether at Naishápúr or Babylon
Each morn a thousand roses brings, you say
With me along the strip of herbage strown
Some for the glories of this world; and some
Look to the blowing Rose about us
Think, in this battered caravanserei
I sometimes think that never blows so red
Ah, my Beloved, fill the cup that clears
Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend
Alike for those who for To-day prepare
Myself when young did eagerly frequent
What, without asking, hither hurried Whence?
Up from earth's centre through the seventh gate
Earth could not aswer; nor the seas that mourn
Then of the Thee In Me who works behind
Then to the lip of this poor earthern urn
I think the vessel, that with fugitive
As then the tulip for her morning sup
So when that angel of the darker drink
Tis but a tent where takes his one day's rest
When you an I behind the veil are past
The desert -
The caravan -
A moment's halt - a monumentary taste -
Would you that spangle of existence spend
A moment guessed - then back behind the fold
Waste not your hour, nor in the vain pursuit
Better be jocund with the fruitful grape
You know, my friends, with what a brave carouse (2. Teil)
Ah, but my computations, people say
And 'twas - the Grape!
The Grape that can with logic absolute
The mighty Mahmúd, Allah-breathing Lord
Why, be this Juice the growth of God, who dare
I must abjure the balm of life, I must
The revelations of devout and learn'd
We are no other than a moving row
The moving finger writes; and, having writ
And that invertes bowl we call the sky
With earth's first clay they did the las man knead
I tell you this - When, started from the goal
What! out of senseless nothing to provoke
Oh thou, who didst with pitfall and with gin
Oh thou, who man of base earth didst make
The fast of Ramazán (3. Teil)
Worshipper in the Mosque
As under cover of departing day
Shapes of all sorts and sizes, great and small
Said one among them - Surely not in vain
So while the vessels one by one were speaking
Ah, with the grape my fasing life provide
Indeed the idol I have loved so long
And much as wine has play'd the infide!
Yet ah, that spring should vanish with the rose
Would but the desert of the fountain yield
Yon rising moon that looks for us again
And when like her, oh Sáki, you shall pass