O thou who art driven like a ball by the mallet of Fate, Go to the right or take the left, but say nothing;[74]
For He who set thee running and galloping He knows, he knows, he knows, he----.
_Ref._: C. 422, L. 633, B. 625, P. 167, B. ii. 462, T. 274.--W. 401, V.
682.
LXXI.
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ, Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line, Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it.
The origin of this quatrain is to be found in O. 31
From the beginning[75] was written what shall be; Unhaltingly the Pen (writes) and is heedless of good and bad; On the First Day He appointed everything that must be-- Our grief and our efforts are vain.
_Ref._: O. 31, C. 87, L. 195, B. 192, S.P. 31, B. ii. 60, T. 67, P. v.
211.--W. 35, N. 31, V. 191.
LXXII.
And that inverted Bowl they call the Sky, Whereunder crawling coop'd we live and die, Lift not your hands to _It_ for help--for It As Impotently moves as you or I.
The inspiration for this quatrain comes from O. 134, ll. 1 and 2, and O.
41.
This heavenly vault is like a bowl fallen upside down, Under which all the wise have fallen helpless.
_Ref._: O. 134, C. 435, L. 657, B. 649, S.P. 360, P. 34, B. ii. 481, P.
v. 154.--W. 408, N. 363, V. 706.
The good and the bad that are in man's nature, The happiness and misery that are predestined for us, Do not impute them to the heavens, for, in the way of Wisdom, Those heavens are a thousandfold more helpless than thou art.
_Ref._: O. 41, C. 62, L. 80, B. 76, S.P. 95, P. 45.--W. 96, N. 95, V.
79.
LXXIII.
With Earth's first Clay They did the Last Man knead, And there of the Last Harvest sow'd the Seed: And the first Morning of Creation wrote What the Last Dawn of Reckoning shall read.
In this quatrain we trace the influence of O. 31 (quoted in the parallel to quatrain No. 71, _ante_) and of O. 95.
Oh, heart! since, in this world, truth itself is hyperbole, Why art thou so disquieted with this trouble and abasement?
Resign thy body to destiny and adapt thyself to the times, For, what the Pen has written, it will not re-write for thy sake.[76]
_Ref._: O. 95, L. 430, B. 426, S.P. 215, P. 59, B. ii. 292.--W. 257, N.
216, E.C. 15, V. 468.
LXXIV.*
YESTERDAY _This_ Day's Madness did prepare; TO-MORROW'S Silence, Triumph, or Despair: Drink! for you know not whence you came, nor why Drink! for you know not why you go, nor where.
The first half of this quatrain comes from O. 152 and the second half from O. 26, ll. 3 and 4.
Be happy! they settled thy business yesterday, And beyond the reach of all thy longings is yesterday,
Live happily, for without any importunity on thy part yesterday, They appointed with certainty what thou wilt do to-morrow--yesterday!
_Ref._: O. 152, C. 473, L. 702, B. ii. 564, P. v. 196.--W. 489, V. 754.
Be happy!--thou knowest not whence thou hast come: Drink wine!--thou knowest not whither thou shalt go.
_Ref._: O. 26, C. 83, L. 192, B. 189, S.P. 85, B. ii. 110, T. 64, P. v.
34.--W 87, N. 85, V. 188.
LXXV.
I tell you this--When, started from the Goal, Over the flaming shoulders of the Foal Of Heav'n, Parwin and Mushtari they flung, In my predestined Plot of Dust and Soul.
This quatrain is translated from C. 147.
On that day when they saddled the wild horses of the Sun, And settled the laws of Parwin and Mushtari,[77]
This was the lot decreed for me from the Diwan of Fate: How can I sin? (my sins) are what Fate allotted me as my portion.
_Ref._: C. 147, L. 286, B. 282, S.P. 110.--W. 140, N. 110, V. 289.
LXXVI.
The Vine had struck a fibre; which about If clings my Being--let the Dervish flout; Of my Base metal may be filed a Key, That shall unlock the Door he howls without.
The sentiment of this quatrain is contained in C. 143.
Since Eternity itself was He created me, From the first he dictated to me the lesson of love, At that time a small filing of the dust of my heart, He made into a key of the treasure-house of substance.[78]
_Ref._: C. 143, L. 311, B. 307, P. 81, T. 134.--V. 314.
LXXVII.
And this I know; whether the one True Light Kindle to Love, or Wrath-consume me quite, One Flash of It within the Tavern caught Better than in the Temple lost outright.
This quatrain is translated from O. 2.
If I talk of the mystery with Thee in a tavern, It is better than if I make my devotions before the Mihrab[79]
without Thee.
O Thou, the first and last of all created beings, Burn me an Thou wilt, cherish me an Thou wilt.