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arcniz
26th May 2008, 07:24
I settled soft and easy into her bower, as one accustomed to be near.
Tho I rustled among her leaves and caressed her stems, she stood.
Unprotesting, her supple fingers tickled my flesh with tender care
as little winds and zephyrs played soft about our trysting ground.

Entwined and crawling in her vinuous thighs I crept higher, as by chance,
than the wires could bear, so then we tumbled down together rapt,
balled in our tangle of limbs and stems, fruit and cane and cordon,
Turned by passion, compelled by gravity, wrapped in taut attraction.

There a-tumble as we lay I stroked her peduncles, near daft my rapture.
Her stomata seem'd to swell and tighten in the rhythm of our earthy tide;
Verging in her center'd manse I grasped a cordon, my desire compounding,
as her better shoots were bare'd, apical and green for plucking open wide.

In celebration of the well-turned cleft that bore so many fruit of yore,
I teased, then wrenched away the filaments impeding our near conjunction.
Quickly thrusting and withdrawing, each angle and bud addressed in turn,
With care I made the coup, grasping hard and finished and then withdrew.

copyright, May 25, 2008, with permission of the author (me) and the last of le fruit du vin, estate'97

ORAC
26th May 2008, 09:18
Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam (http://www.library.cornell.edu/colldev/mideast/okhym.htm)
Edward FitzGerald's Translation.

Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has flung the Stone that puts the Stars to Flight:
And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultan's Turret in a Noose of Light.

Dreaming when Dawn's Left Hand was in the Sky
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,
"Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup
"Before Life's Liquor in its Cup be dry."

And, as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted--"Open then the Door!
"You know how little while we have to stay,
"And, once departed, may return no more."

Now the New Year reviving old Desires,
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires,
Where the white hand of Moses on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.

Iram indeed is gone with all its Rose,
And Jamshyd's Sev'n-ring'd Cup where no one knows;
But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
And still a Garden by the Water blows.

And David's Lips are lock't; but in divine
High piping Pehlevi, with "Wine! Wine! Wine!
"Red Wine!"---the Nightingale cries to the Rose
That yellow Cheek of hers to incarnadine.

Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring
The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:
The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly---and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.

And look---a thousand Blossoms with the Day
Woke---and a thousand scatter'd into Clay:
And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose
Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobad away.

But come with old Khayyam, and leave the Lot
Of Kaikobad and Kaikhosru forgot!
Let Rustum lay about him as he will,
Or Hatim Tai cry Supper---heed them not.

With me along some Strip of Herbage strown
That just divides the desert from the sown,
Where name of Slave and Sultan scarce is known,
And pity Sultan Mahmud on his Throne.

Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse---and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness---
And Wilderness is Paradise enow.........

arcniz
26th May 2008, 09:48
Surely old Omar was one of the better layabouts in history. Where is he now? A bit more insouciance in those parts would sure be welcome presently. It would seem the Zoroastrians have the franchise now, but they're not exactly on a roll, eh?

Solid Rust Twotter
26th May 2008, 09:49
Bollocks - Spike Milligan, 1944

arcniz
26th May 2008, 09:55
Was he the first?

LordGrumpy
26th May 2008, 10:21
Well he was the first to say 'Anybody see a gun?' This was when a large howitzer rolled off a cliff and did not land on Harry Secombe.

Binoculars
26th May 2008, 13:49
And, as the Cock crew,

Just what were Mr Fitzgerald's qualifications as a translator?

Solid Rust Twotter
26th May 2008, 15:09
Mr Arcniz:

The Milligan quote was in response to Sir Spike's good mate Harry waking him with the first two lines of the Rubaiyyat from whence he was kipping on the roof of a 5cwt truck on the deck of HMS Boxer. His poetic reply to this romantic early morning alarm call has been noted precisely as you see it above.

Sorry. It was the first thing I thought of on seeing the Omar Khayyam post.:O

Davaar
26th May 2008, 15:28
Arcniz, with respect, I think not. In "The Spectator" within the past three months I read the review of an Omar biography to the effect that he was a man of many parts and great achievement. I meant to buy it at the time but neglected the task. Prompted by your post I am this very minute off to the bookstore to see if they can track it down for me.

Best not to delay it any more. As Omar put it, "Why, tomorrow I may be Myself with yesterday's seven thousand years".

S'land
26th May 2008, 15:41
Omar Kayyam was a typical product of the Madrassas (or Universities) of the period. He would have studied many disciplines. He was certainly well known as a Mathematician, he wrote books on algebra and geometry, and astronomer.

Davaar
26th May 2008, 18:07
Sounds about right, S'land. The book is "Omar Khayyam: Poet, Rebel, Astronomer" (typical damned student), by Hazhir Teimourian, The History Press, 2008. Not available here in the shops until October 1, but the web-sites have it now.