Rubáiyát
Idle thoughts from a recent Iranian holiday.
From before the first caravans had 'er shipped,
Travellers have into Persia slipped
To find the world of Omar Khayyam,
And Lo, behold, we find the eucalypt!
◊
Lo! Gatekeeper, we come to seek a place
To rest our head, to wash out face
And perhaps to sit around at night
To share our tales of time and space.
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We're strangers and yet momentary friends —
The overt message that each picture sends:
Is one of hope and brotherhood,
Of different lives with common ends.
◊
Oh Shiraz, Shiraz, daughter of the vine,
Seduced by the purveyors of divine,
And so now a miracle has come to pass —
In reverse — water now replaces wine.
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A swirl of cloth, draped but loose —
Those ones with God demand its use —
To stop men's blood from overheating,
Liberation to some, to others a noose.
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Alone amongst the legs, the trade is slow,
A boy sells you weight for a coin or so —
To make a living, such as is, but I am well fed
And so turn away; I do not want to know.
◊
As both sultan and lowly peasant affirms
They enter life on different terms
But each departs through a common door,
It makes no difference to the worms.
◊
Ah Persia, wondrous land of past intrigue
A land, we're told, that bats above its league,
Rugs and spices to entrance the travellers
And that most curious illness - mosque-fatigue.
◊
Lo! Strangers, what can you tell us?
Believe us, Sir, we dislike the turbanned fellahs,
For too long they beguiled with paradise —
We no longer buy the dream they sell us.
◊
The overlords are largely derided,
Seditious thoughts are freely provided.
There's no telling what the future holds
But revolutions are seldom guided.
◊
Ancient Persepolis had style and grace,
A most won'drous architectural space.
It remained the centre of civic life
Until Alexander came and trashed the place.
◊
So long to start and yet so soon gone,
Markets, mosques and tea salon,
All defer to the distant call—
The caravans pack and then,
separately,
move on.
.
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© 2018 J Cosmo Newbery
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