Rubaiyat - Verses LXVI-LXIX

Listen to:

Rubaiyat - Verses LXVI-LXIX (1:13)

by Omar Khayyam 

translated by Edward Fitzgerald

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

    LXVI

    I sent my Soul through the Invisible,

    Some letter of that After-life to spell:

    And by and by my Soul return'd to me,

    And answer'd "I Myself am Heav'n and Hell:"

    LXVII

    Heav'n but the Vision of fulfill'd Desire,

    And Hell the Shadow from a Soul on fire,

    Cast on the Darkness into which Ourselves,

    So late emerged from, shall so soon expire.

    LXVIII

    We are no other than a moving row

    Of Magic Shadow-shapes that come and go

    Round with the Sun-illumined Lantern held

    In Midnight by the Master of the Show;

    LXIX

    But helpless Pieces of the Game He plays

    Upon this Chequer-board of Nights and Days;

    Hither and thither moves, and checks, and slays,

    And one by one back in the Closet lays.

A Narrow Fellow in the Grass

Listen to:

A Narrow Fellow in the Grass (:52)

by Emily Dickinson

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

A narrow fellow in the grass

Occasionally rides;

You may have met him, — did you not,

His notice sudden is.

The grass divides as with a comb,

A spotted shaft is seen;

And then it closes at your feet

And opens further on.

He likes a boggy acre,

A floor too cool for corn.

Yet when a child, and barefoot,

I more than once, at morn,

Have passed, I thought, a whip-lash

Unbraiding in the sun, —

When, stooping to secure it,

It wrinkled, and was gone.

Several of nature's people

I know, and they know me;

I feel for them a transport

Of cordiality;

But never met this fellow,

Attended or alone,

Without a tighter breathing,

And zero at the bone.

The Tiger

Listen to:

The Tiger (1:09)

by William Blake

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Tiger, tiger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

In what distant deeps or skies

Burnt the fire of thine eyes?

On what wings dare he aspire?

What the hand dare seize the fire?

And what shoulder and what art

Could twist the sinews of thy heart?

And, when thy heart began to beat,

What dread hand and what dread feet?

What the hammer? what the chain?

In what furnace was thy brain?

What the anvil? what dread grasp

Dare its deadly terrors clasp?

When the stars threw down their spears,

And watered heaven with their tears,

Did He smile His work to see?

Did He who made the lamb make thee?

Tiger, tiger, burning bright

In the forests of the night,

What immortal hand or eye

Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?

"Man Was Made for Joy and Woe" - excerpt from Auguries of Innocence

Listen to:

Man Was Made for Joy and Woe

by William Blake

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

Man was made for joy and woe;

And when this we rightly know

Through the world we safely go.

Joy and woe are woven fine,

A clothing for the soul divine.

Under every grief and pine

Runs a joy with silken twine.

Every Night & every Morn

Some to Misery are Born 

Every Morn and every Night

Some are Born to sweet delight 

Some are Born to sweet delight 

Some are Born to Endless Night 

God Appears & God is Light

To those poor Souls who dwell in Night 

But does a Human Form Display

To those who Dwell in Realms of day

Eternity

Listen to:

Eternity

by William Blake

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

He who binds to himself a joy

Does the winged life destroy;

He who kisses the joy as it flies

Lives in eternity’s sunrise.

Rubai (Quatrains) from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

Listen to:

Rubai from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

performed by Bob Gonzalez, rhapsode

 Come, fill the Cup, and in the fire of Spring

 Your Winter garment of Repentance fling:

   The Bird of Time has but a little way

 To flutter--and the Bird is on the Wing.

 Whether at Naishapur or Babylon,

 Whether the Cup with sweet or bitter run,

   The Wine of Life keeps oozing drop by drop,

 The Leaves of Life keep falling one by one.

Ah, my Belovéd, fill the Cup that clears

Today of past Regrets and future Fears:

    Tomorrow!--Why, Tomorrow I may be

Myself with Yesterday's Sev'n thousand Years.

 Yesterday This Day's Madness did prepare;

Tomorrow’s Silence, Triumph, or Despair:

   Drink! for you not know whence you came, nor why:

 Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.