Death and alcohol, alcohol and death, the message of the Rubaiyat

 I was recently given, as a present, a copy of the "Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam". A lovely volume. 

It is a long time since I'd read the whole poem, but this time it struck me that almost every page is about death and alcohol.

Fitzgerald, the translator who brought the poem to the West, decided to try to transmit the spirit of the poem, rather than make a literal translation. I can't read ancient Persian, so the only thing I have to go on is the translation. And the Art Nouveau illustrations (mostly by Renè Bull).

Come fill the cup...
the Bird of Time has but a little way to flutter.

There you go, alcohol and death.

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!"

Oh oh! More alcohol and death. And how come Persia of 600 years ago is full of 1920s Hollywood actors?

Want some more death and alcohol? Never fear:

Ah make the most of what we may yet spend,
Before we too into Dust descend;
Dust into Dust and under Dust to lie
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and - sans End!

It is a very strange book, made stranger by the then modern illustrations.

And just in case you have not got the message yet, here is the last illustration: