TODAY is National Poetry Day (every day is of course a poetry day for readers of this space!). To mark NPD’s theme of “Light,” a hauntingly beautiful image of light ends the first of these verses from Edward Fitzgerald’s rendering of ancient Persian quatrains.

from THE RUBAIYAT OF OMAR KHAYYAM

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.

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

Our Winter-Garment of Repentance fling:

The Bird of Time has but a little way

To flutter – and the Bird is on the Wing.

A book of Verses underneath the Bough,

A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread – and Thou

Beside me singing in the Wilderness –

Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!

For some we loved, the loveliest and the best

That from his Vintage rolling Time hath prest,

Have drunk their Cup, a Round or two before

And one by one crept silently to rest.

Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,

Before we too the Dust descend;

Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie,

Sans Wine, Sans Song, sans Singer, and Sans End!

Perplext no more with Human or Divine,

Tomorrow’s tangle to the winds resign,

And lose your fingers in the tresses of

The Cypress-slender Minister of Wine.