memorize Edward Fitzgerald's translation of the Rubiyat.

Wake! For the Sun, who scatter’d into flight
the stars before it in the field of night.
Drives night along with them to heav’n, and strikes
the Sultan’s turret with a shaft of light.

When the false phantom of morning died,
Methought a voice within the tavern cried
“When all the temple is prepar’d within,
why nods the drowsy worshipper outside?”

And, as the cock crew, those who stood before
the Tavern cried “open, then the door,
You know what little time we have to stay,
and, once departed, may return no more.”

Now the New Year reviving old desires
The thoughtful soul to solitude retires,
And where the white hand of moses on the bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the ground suspires.

Iram indeed is gone with all his rose,
And Jamshyd’s seven ring’d cup where, no one knows,
But still a Ruby kindles in the vine
And many a garden by the water blows.

Now Davids lips are lock’d, but in divine
High piping, Pehlevi with “Wine! Wine! Wine!”
“Red Wine” the nightengale cries to the rose
That sallow cheek of hers to’incarnadine.

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.

I want to go to two stanzas a day. That would get me finished by Spring. My brain has felt fuzzy, and I want to stretch my memory.

Awake! For Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has Flung the Stone that Sets the Stars to Flight
And Lo! The Hunter of the East has Caught
The Sultan’s Turret in a Noose of Light.

When 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 run 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.

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.

When Dreaming when Dawn’s Left hand was in the Sky
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry
Awake, childrenmy Little Ones, and fill the Cup
Before Life’s Liquor in its Cup berun dry.

Awake! For morning in the bowl of night
has flung the stone that setsputs the stars to flight.
And Lo! The hunter inof the East has caught
The Sultan’s Turret in a noose of light.

To have the whole thing done by the first anniversary of her death on July 23, I need to learn one stanza every other day. I figure I will write one out by memory in this entry at least an hour after last looking at it, and pick another stanza at random to write (my experience with learning piano music is that counting on episodic memory has drawbacks. Then, every other week, I figured I would write all that I can do from memory, until that gets too large.

My great grandmother made her grandchildren (my mother, my two uncles, and five cousins) memorize the rubiyat. Two weeks before my mother died of lung cancer, when I was struggling with moving her, her speech was slurred with morphine, and she slept 20 hours a day, she could still recite the first three stanzas with sweeping gestures in her grandmother’s style.

My mother was hardly ever my “mommy”. She was a serious alcholic when I was a child, and lost custody shortly after the divorce when I was barely seven. She was my principal hero and role model in later life, my chief confidant, and my twin soul. It sounds sentimental to say it, but, almost five months after her death, the main emotion I feel when all is quiet is that I miss her and I wish I could hear her voice again.