السلام عليكم ورحمة الله وبركاته

كيف حالكو يا شباب .. انشالله تمام


بس أنا عندي صديق بيعز عليا كتير وبيقوللي عندو بحث عن عمر الخيام

وأنا مضغوط كتير بالإمتحانات وما فضيت أدور معو .. فقلت ما الي الا شباب وصبايا المقعد


طبعا زي ما بتعرفو هادا كان عالم فلك ايراني والو أشعار كتير مشهورة تسمى الربيعيات كنو

والو اختراعات كتيييير غيرهم


فإزا بتقدرو تجيبولي معلومات عنو وعن هالإختراعات تبعتو بالزات .. وإزا في اختراعات غيرها كمان .. زيادة الخير خيرين


وبكون شاكر الكو كتير


تحياتي للجميع




ملاحظة صغيرة: يفضل يكون البحث باللغة الإنجليزية .. ما لقيتو هاتو عربي مش مشكلة

بصراحة ما بعرفه

انا حدور ازا لقيت حبعتلك

ولو حنقصر فيك وبصاحبك

Omar Al-Khayyam�s ten books and thirty monographs have survived. These include four books on mathematics, one on algebra, one on geometry, three on physics, and three books on ****physics. He made great contributions in the development of mathematics and analytical geometry, which benefitted Europe several centuries later

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.

This essay was previously published as the fourth in a series of articles on the evolution of humanist thought by Pat Duffy Hutcheon in Humanist in Canada (Spring 1998), p.22-25; 29.

Lucretius -- Epicureanism -- Byzantium -- Islam -- Baghdad -- Italian Renaissance -- Avicenna -- Buddhism -- naturalistic humanism -- the Persian quatrain -- the Rubaiyat -- Al Dashti -- Sufi -- Averroes -- Aquinas -- hedonism
The man who was to keep the torch of scientific humanism alight within early Islamic civilization was born a thousand years after the death of Lucretius, and into a vastly different cultural setting. Nevertheless, in all that Omar Khayyam wrote one can clearly recognize the influence of the great Roman poet, and of the naturalistic Epicureanism that he celebrated. This is doubly remarkable when we recall that, during the centuries between Lucretius and Khayyam, a Dark Age had engulfed and stifled Western Europe. The spread of a mystical form of religion throughout the remnants of the Roman empire, combined with the influence of the Germanic tribes, had gradually produced what amounted to a reversion to barbarism. Gullibility and ignorance pervaded life at all levels, while economic activity declined to primitive levels of barter. An attitude of contempt for earthly existence and bodily pleasures had become the norm, along with belief in all manner of superstition and magic.
Southward and eastward, however, two different cultural patterns had emerged. One was the Byzantine Empire -- populated by Hellenized Central Asians: Greeks, Syrians, Jews, Armenians, Egyptians and Persians. It existed as a static, class-dominated, authoritarian society, with change occurring only in extreme form and imposed from without. Yet, by the sheer fact of its existence, in those first cruel centuries following the fall of Rome, this remnant of the ancient civilizations performed a critical holding action for human culture. Within it were preserved many of the achievements of the Hellenic and Classical world. Then, in the seventh century, came the emergence of a new religion among the Arabs and Bedouins to the south, sparking a civilization which eventually encompassed and surpassed what little there had been of original Byzantine achievement.
Mohammed, the founder of Islam, became at the same time the founder of a new Arabic state with its capital at Medina. In the century after his death the Islamic rulers (called Caliphs or successors to the Prophet) expanded their jurisdiction from the Arabian Peninsula west to Morocco, north to Spain and Armenia and eastwards to Persia, Palestine, Syria and even to the borders of India. By the time another century had passed, however, the over-extended Saracenic empire had begun to disintegrate, and Baghdad had emerged as the centre of an independently functioning eastern part. In 1055, the Sultan of the Seljuk Turks conquered the city, assuming complete control over what was by then the Oriental Islamic Empire.
Baghdad is crucial to any story of the history of humanism. It was there that the transmission of Classical learning to the West really began. Learned Jews and free-thinking Persians with roots in both the Byzantine and Saracenic cultures were the heroic preservers of Greek, Roman and Oriental knowledge for more than five centuries. The result was that the ancient Classics, translated from the original Greek to Arabic by the Persian and Jewish scholars at the university and other centers of learning in Baghdad, eventually found their way to the Muslims in Spain. When Sicily, under Muslim control for 130 years, fell to the Normans in 1091 it, too, became a thriving source for the spread of Arabian science and medicine into the rest of Europe. From such centers powerful ideas from antiquity were disseminated, typically by Jewish scholars who traveled from monastery to monastery throughout Christian Europe. Thus were the sparks of learning provided for the flickering candles in those lonely outposts, where Christian monks labored to translate the Greek and Arabic into Latin and, in the process (no doubt unknowingly) to ignite the conflagration of the Italian Renaissance.
The story of Omar Khayyam's role in all this is a fascinating one. He was born in the eleventh century, at Nishapur. His birthplace was, at that time, the third or fourth most important city in the world. It was the capital of a prosperous province called Khorassan. His family was Persian, and probably affluent, for he was given the best education available. At his university the dominant philosophy seems to have been that sophisticated meld of Platonic and Aristotelian ideas elaborated by the Persian scholar Avicenna during the previous generation. But other influences were present as well. One of his biographers notes: "In that province of Khorassan where Omar was born, followers of the Buddha ... had for centuries existed."2 Significant also was the presence of the Brothers of Purity, a group of philosophers similar to the French Encyclopedists of a much later era. These scholars "conducted their speculations on a materialistic plain and attacked all problems with the instrument of human understanding. They had a bias to natural science and tried to found a philosophy on its discoveries.3
Omar lived from 1048 to 1131. During the decades preceding his birth, Turkish tribes had been steadily encroaching on the settled land from the north. In 1055, Seljuk mercenaries within the empire rebelled and joined the invaders, and all of Persia fell. Seljuk Sultans established themselves in Baghdad. By the close of the century, as Omar approached middle age, the conquerors had accepted Islam and were enforcing it with all the ferocity and fanaticism of the recently converted. Utterly unskilled in government and administration, they depended -- even more than had the Caliphs -- on their Persian advisors.
After graduating, Omar entered the service of the Seljuk Sultan Malek-shah. During his career he wrote ten books, although only three have survived: two pioneering treatises on algebra and one book of verse. Along with other leading astronomers, he constructed an observatory for the Sultan in 1074. He is also famous for having compiled a set of astronomical tables so complete that they formed the basis for a calendar more accurate than the Gregorian one compiled five centuries later. However, the death of the Sultan in 1092 heralded a drastic change in Omar's prospects. His good friend and protector, First Minister Nizam-ul-Mulk, was murdered soon after. This double tragedy ushered in a period of dynastic and sectarian conflict, along with international and civil warfare. A violent sect of Ismaelis became powerful, and religious reaction and persecution were rampant. As if that were not enough, the First Crusade, pursued by the feudal knights of Western Europe and the feeble Christian court of Byzantium, had begun its incursion into the troubled Islamic empire. In the devastation of Jerusalem that ensued, 70,000 Muslims were murdered and thousands of Jews burned in their synagogues. The city's magnificent libraries were also destroyed.
We can assume that Omar, who was above all a free thinker, would have felt increasingly imperiled as the new century wore on. A biographer wrote that the last three or four decades of his life were spent "in this welter of fanaticism and superstition, of disorder and brutality."4 It is easy to imagine how desperate he would have been to express his real thoughts; to pass on something of his philosophy of naturalistic humanism to succeeding generations. The usual methods of the academic were not safe options. In fact Omar refused to teach -- and one can understand why. At least two of his professional contemporaries, not nearly as deviant as he in their world views, had been put to death for heresy.
In such a situation, what remains for the philosopher of integrity but apparently harmless verse? It seems that there is a phenomenon known as "ketman" which is a Persian proclivity for observing in public the current orthodoxy (no matter how distasteful) while proceeding in private according to one's own lights. It is a way of surviving in dangerously bigoted and authoritarian regimes. Clearly Omar resorted to this, combining it with his own unique survival mechanism in the form of the Persian quatrain: a poetic invention of considerable antiquity.
For at least a century, scholars from both East and West have been studying what has come down to us as the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Much time and many keen minds have been devoted to separating the wheat of his original expression from the chaff of folk accretions, fraudulent imitation, well-intentioned but misleading interpretation and deliberate distortion with malicious intent. Al Dashti, a Persian scholar, has produced the most credible selection of authentic quatrains to date, based on a thorough study of contemporary accounts documenting Omar's abilities, character, philosophical premises and writing style. He was able to make the considered judgment that "at least thirty or forty of these quatrains, scattered in so many sources, are completely consistent in both style and thought, and seem clearly to be the product of a single genius."5 From these early sources, Dashti formed a relatively clear picture of Omar's beliefs. He took careful note of comments such as "Although the learned Omar, Proof of the Truth, did not believe in prognostication by the stars."6 On the basis of a great deal of similar evidence he has strongly repudiated popular de******ions of Omar as a sensually indulgent hedonist, or as a mystic. Dashti demonstrated that the verses emphasizing these orientations were later additions.
It is true that, for a time after Omar's death, the mystical Islamic sect known as the Sufis claimed him as one of theirs. However, Dashti concludes that this idea has been thoroughly discredited by modern Persian scholarship. The Sufi-like quatrains were probably added to the repertoire by Sufis who were attracted by the original verses but failed to understand what they were really saying. Indeed, they were warned of their error by a more discerning (albeit disapproving) reader of the period. "In recent times the Sufis have fallen victim to the outward charms of his poetry. They do not realize that these poems are like beautiful snakes, outwardly attractive but inwardly poisonous and deadly to the Holy Law."7
The "true believer" who penned these words was, of course, quite right. He knew his Omar Khayyam. For, as Dashti pointed out, "We can judge from the early authentic quatrains that his thinking on life and death, on the pre-existence or createdness of the earth, on the first cause of creation, and on the possibility of return to one's original form, was very different from that of the theologians."8
It was not only that Omar's ideas were in direct conflict with those of every Islamic sect of the period; he also differed radically from the philosophical orthodoxy of his age, as expressed in the works of his early intellectual hero Avicenna. In general, the various biographers of Omar Khayyam seem somewhat puzzled by this, for it is apparent that they accept the Platonic-Aristotelian philosophical stance of Avicenna (refined later by Averroes of Cordoba and ultimately inherited by Aquinas) as the most enlightened of the idea systems of ancient Greece.
However, there was another current of thought that would have been translated by the Persians and made available to scholars like Omar. We know it was present in the Arabic intellectual culture because it was passed on in succeeding centuries through the Moors and Jews in Spain to an awakening Italy. It was the philosophy of Epicurus: a perspective far more subversive of the status quo than Plato's elitist dualism and Aristotle's reconciliation of reason and faith could ever be. And it comes through loud and clear in the poetry of Omar Khayyam.
Recent research by Persian scholars has unearthed a comment by Omar which reveals something of his uneasy relationship with his fellow scholars. "We are the victims of an age when men of science are discredited, and only a few remain who are capable of engaging in scientific research. Our philosophers spend all their time in mixing true with false and are interested in nothing but outward show; such little learning as they have they extend on material ends. When they see a man sincere and unremitting in his search for the truth, one who will have nothing to do with falsehood and pretence, they mock and despise him."9 We can gather from this that Omar saw himself as above all a scientist, committed (in the manner of Epicurus) to open, critical inquiry into the nature of things. It is not difficult to extract this commitment from his quatrains. One can imagine Omar's frustration at the contradiction inherent in any attempt to pursue unfettered scientific inquiry into all aspects of existence, in an orthodox and authoritarian society intent on setting rigid limits to belief. Omar must have been fully aware that transgression of those limits meant death. He could have seen only one way to express the tragedy that he felt.

Emerging in many of his quatrains is an Epicurean skepticism concerning the survival of the soul, or of the possibility of the type of human spiritual transcendence taught by the dualistic and mystical philosophers around him. His references to an omnipotent God seem to be solely for the purpose of challenging the concept. Another consistent message in those quatrains now accepted as authentic is that of skepticism concerning final truths or unchallengeable notions about the meaning of life. One can only imagine how dangerous it would have been to express such ideas directly, in that place and time. Yet, through the medium of poetry, Omar could drop hints. An emphasis on the need to seek knowledge of humanity as well as of other aspects of nature is also present. We find a pervasive concern for a kind of practical, common-sense morality, with a noticeable absence of justification in terms of supernatural or worldly authority.
In addition to the accusation of Sufi-like mysticism, Omar has frequently been charged with pandering to sexual licence, gluttony and drunkenness. It is true that many of the quatrains attributed to him in earlier times seemed to extol excess. However, it has been ascertained by modern Persian scholarship that these were later accretions, written either by his detractors or by supporters who understood neither his use of imagery nor his Epicurean philosophy. For Omar -- as for Epicurus before him -- wine and female beauty symbolized enjoyment of life in the here and now, rather than in some imagined heavenly paradise. He employed them as ****phors for that fellowship among human beings seen by Epicurus as both a means and tentative end of human existence. Similarly, the clay wine pot so often found in Omar's poetry represents the inorganic matter out of which humanity was formed. It is through the quatrains replete with such references that Omar is revealed as thoroughly Epicurean.
The more one thinks about the overriding naturalism of Omar's quatrains, and the cultural context in which they were expressed, the more remarkable it seems that they were written at all. And once written -- that they survived. For what followed was worse than even Omar, at his most pessimistic, could have envisioned. Less than a century after his death, the Mongol hordes from the Asian Steppes had reached Nishapur, devastating the surrounding land and laying waste to the beautiful city and its centers of learning. There is no way to guess the full extent of the destruction of precious manu******s that occurred during the several generations before the Mongols were converted from their primitive Shamanism to Islam. A student of the legacy of Islam wrote that, after the Mongol invasions, the Moslem world "lost forever its ideal and even its cultural unity."11 Another (quoted in the same source) concluded that the Mongols "stamped out the fire of learning in the East so effectively that it never recovered."12
The immediate result was that the center of enlightenment moved north-westward in the twelfth century. Four centuries earlier, Islamic Arabs and Berbers from North Africa had invaded and settled in Spain. It was from this community -- known as Moors -- that wandering Jewish scholars distributed their precious legacy of Classical and Arabian-Persian thought among the far-flung monasteries of Western Europe. Most of those flickers of learning were nourished by Platonic and Aristotelian ideas, and it is chiefly to the refinement of that current of thought by Arabian scholars that we owe the survival of the physical sciences. Nevertheless, there must have been a few Epicurean sparks from material such as Omar's subversive quatrains that smoldered through the centuries until fresh breezes stirred within the process of cultural evolution. Omar could have been thinking about his own version of immortality when he wrote:

NOTES:

و هي زيادة الخير خيرين



Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam




Biography


of Omar Khayyam


by Edward J. Fitzgerald


Omar Khayyam,


The Astronomer-Poet of Persia.

Omar Khayyam was born at Naishapur in Khorassan in the latter half of our Eleventh, and died within the First Quarter of our Twelfth Century. The Slender Story of his Life is curiously twined about that of two other very considerable Figures in their Time and Country: one of whom tells the Story of all Three. This was Nizam ul Mulk, Vizier to Alp Arslan the Son, and Malik Shah the Grandson, of Toghrul Beg the Tartar, who had wrested Persia from the feeble Successor of Mahmud the Great, and founded that Seljukian Dynasty which finally roused Europe into the Crusades. This Nizam ul Mulk, in his Wasiyat--or Testament--which he wrote and left as a Memorial for future Statesmen--relates the following, as quoted in the Calcutta Review, No. 59, from Mirkhond's History of the Assassins.

"'One of the greatest of the wise men of Khorassan was the Imam Mowaffak of Naishapur, a man highly honored and reverenced,--may God rejoice his soul; his illustrious years exceeded eighty-five, and it was the universal belief that every boy who read the Koran or studied the traditions in his presence, would assuredly attain to honor and happiness. For this cause did my father send me from Tus to Naishapur with Abd-us-samad, the doctor of law, that I might employ myself in study and learning under the guidance of that illustrious teacher. Towards me he ever turned an eye of favor and kindness, and as his pupil I felt for him extreme affection and devotion, so that I passed four years in his service. When I first came there, I found two other pupils of mine own age newly arrived, Hakim Omar Khayyam, and the ill-fated Ben Sabbah. Both were endowed with sharpness of wit and the highest natural powers; and we three formed a close friendship together. When the Imam rose from his lectures, they used to join me, and we repeated to each other the lessons we had heard. Now Omar was a native of Naishapur, while Hasan Ben Sabbah's father was one Ali, a man of austere life and practise, but heretical in his creed and doctrine. One day Hasan said to me and to Khayyam, "It is a universal belief that the pupils of the Imam Mowaffak will attain to fortune. Now, even if we all do not attain thereto, without doubt one of us will; what then shall be our mutual pledge and bond?" We answered, "Be it what you please." "Well," he said, "let us make a vow, that to whomsoever this fortune falls, he shall share it equally with the rest, and reserve no pre-eminence for himself." "Be it so," we both replied, and on those terms we mutually pledged our words. Years rolled on, and I went from Khorassan to Transoxiana, and wandered to Ghazni and Cabul; and when I returned, I was invested with office, and rose to be administrator of affairs during the Sultanate of Sultan Alp Arslan.'

"He goes on to state, that years passed by, and both his old school-friends found him out, and came and claimed a share in his good fortune, according to the school-day vow. The Vizier was generous and kept his word. Hasan demanded a place in the government, which the Sultan granted at the Vizier's request; but discontented with a gradual rise, he plunged into the maze of intrigue of an oriental court, and, failing in a base attempt to supplant his benefactor, he was disgraced and fell. After many mishaps and wanderings, Hasan became the head of the Persian sect of the Ismailians, a party of fanatics who had long murmured in obscurity, but rose to an evil eminence under the guidance of his strong and evil will. In A.D. 1090, he seized the castle of Alamut, in the province of Rudbar, which lies in the mountainous tract south of the Caspian Sea; and it was from this mountain home he obtained that evil celebrity among the Crusaders as the OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAINS, and spread terror through the Mohammedan world; and it is yet disputed where the word Assassin, which they have left in the language of modern Europe as their dark memorial, is derived from the hashish, or opiate of hemp-leaves (the Indian bhang), with which they maddened themselves to the sullen pitch of oriental desperation, or from the name of the founder of the dynasty, whom we have seen in his quiet collegiate days, at Naishapur. One of the countless victims of the Assassin's dagger was Nizam ul Mulk himself, the old school-boy friend.<1>
"Omar Khayyam also came to the Vizier to claim his share; but not to ask for title or office. 'The greatest boon you can confer on me,' he said, 'is to let me live in a corner under the shadow of your fortune, to spread wide the advantages of Science, and pray for your long life and prosperity.' The Vizier tells us, that when he found Omar was really sincere in his refusal, he pressed him no further, but granted him a yearly pension of 1200 mithkals of gold from the treasury of Naishapur.
"At Naishapur thus lived and died Omar Khayyam, 'busied,' adds the Vizier, 'in winning knowledge of every kind, and especially in Astronomy, wherein he attained to a very high pre-eminence. Under the Sultanate of Malik Shah, he came to Merv, and obtained great praise for his proficiency in science, and the Sultan showered favors upon him.'
"When the Malik Shah determined to reform the calendar, Omar was one of the eight learned men employed to do it; the result was the Jalali era (so called from Jalal-ud-din, one of the king's names)--'a computation of time,' says Gibbon, 'which surpasses the Julian, and approaches the accuracy of the Gregorian style.' He is also the author of some astronomical tables, entitled 'Ziji-Malikshahi,' and the French have lately republished and translated an Arabic Treatise of his on Algebra.

"We have only one more anecdote to give of his Life, and that relates to the close; it is told in the anonymous preface which is sometimes prefixed to his poems; it has been printed in the Persian in the Appendix to Hyde's Veterum Persarum Religio, p. 499; and D'Herbelot alludes to it in his Bibliotheque, under Khiam.<3>--

"'It is written in the chronicles of the ancients that this King of the Wise, Omar Khayyam, died at Naishapur in the year of the Hegira, 517 (A.D. 1123); in science he was unrivaled,--the very paragon of his age. Khwajah Nizami of Samarcand, who was one of his pupils, relates the following story: "I often used to hold conversations with my teacher, Omar Khayyam, in a garden; and one day he said to me, 'My tomb shall be in a spot where the north wind may scatter roses over it.' I wondered at the words he spake, but I knew that his were no idle words.<4> Years after, when I chanced to revisit Naishapur, I went to his final resting-place, and lo! it was just outside a garden, and trees laden with fruit stretched their boughs over the garden wall, and dropped their flowers upon his tomb, so that the stone was hidden under them."

Thus far--without fear of Trespass--from the Calcutta Review. The writer of it, on reading in India this story of Omar's Grave, was reminded, he says, of Cicero's Account of finding Archimedes' Tomb at Syracuse, buried in grass and weeds. I think Thorwaldsen desired to have roses grow over him; a wish religiously fulfilled for him to the present day, I believe. However, to return to Omar.
Though the Sultan "shower'd Favors upon him," Omar's Epicurean Audacity of Thought and Speech caused him to be regarded askance in his own Time and Country. He is said to have been especially hated and dreaded by the Sufis, whose Practise he ridiculed, and whose Faith amounts to little more than his own, when stript of the Mysticism and formal recognition of Islamism under which Omar would not hide. Their Poets, including Hafiz, who are (with the exception of Firdausi) the most considerable in Persia, borrowed largely, indeed, of Omar's material, but turning it to a mystical Use more convenient to Themselves and the People they addressed; a People quite as quick of Doubt as of Belief; as keen of Bodily sense as of Intellectual; and delighting in a cloudy composition of both, in which they could float luxuriously between Heaven and Earth, and this World and the Next, on the wings of a poetical expression, that might serve indifferently for either. Omar was too honest of Heart as well of Head for this. Having failed (however mistakenly) of finding any Providence but Destiny, and any World but This, he set about making the most of it; preferring rather to soothe the Soul through the Senses into Acquiescence with Things as he saw them, than to perplex it with vain disquietude after what they might be. It has been seen, however, that his Worldly Ambition was not exorbitant; and he very likely takes a humorous or perverse pleasure in exalting the gratification of Sense above that of the Intellect, in which he must have taken great delight, although it failed to answer the Questions in which he, in common with all men, was most vitally interested.

The Reviewer,<6> to whom I owe the Particulars of Omar's Life, concludes his Review by comparing him with Lucretius, both as to natural Temper and Genius, and as acted upon by the Circumstances in which he lived. Both indeed were men of subtle, strong, and cultivated Intellect, fine Imagination, and Hearts passionate for Truth and Justice; who justly revolted from their Country's false Religion, and false, or foolish, Devotion to it; but who fell short of replacing what they subverted by such better Hope as others, with no better Revelation to guide them, had yet made a Law to themselves. Lucretius indeed, with such material as Epicurus furnished, satisfied himself with the theory of a vast machine fortuitously constructed, and acting by a Law that implied no Legislator; and so composing himself into a Stoical rather than Epicurean severity of Attitude, sat down to contemplate the mechanical drama of the Universe which he was part Actor in; himself and all about him (as in his own sublime de******ion of the Roman Theater) discolored with the lurid reflex of the Curtain suspended between the Spectator and the Sun. Omar, more desperate, or more careless of any so complicated System as resulted in nothing but hopeless Necessity, flung his own Genius and Learning with a bitter or humorous jest into the general Ruin which their insufficient glimpses only served to reveal; and, pretending sensual pleasure, as the serious purpose of Life, only diverted himself with speculative problems of Deity, Destiny, Matter and Spirit, Good and Evil, and other such questions, easier to start than to run down, and the pursuit of which becomes a very weary sport at last!

With regard to the present Translation. The original Rubaiyat (as, missing an Arabic Guttural, these Tetrastichs are more musically called) are independent Stanzas, consisting each of four Lines of equal, though varied, Prosody; sometimes all rhyming, but oftener (as here imitated) the third line a blank. Somewhat as in the Greek Alcaic, where the penultimate line seems to lift and suspend the Wave that falls over in the last. As usual with such kind of Oriental Verse, the Rubaiyat follow one another according to Alphabetic Rhyme--a strange succession of Grave and Gay. Those here selected are strung into something of an Eclogue, with perhaps a less than equal proportion of the "Drink and make-merry," which (genuine or not) recurs over-frequently in the Original. Either way, the Result is sad enough: saddest perhaps when most ostentatiously merry: more apt to move Sorrow than Anger toward the old Tentmaker, who, after vainly endeavoring to unshackle his Steps from Destiny, and to catch some authentic Glimpse of TO-MORROW, fell back upon TO-DAY (which has outlasted so many To-morrows!) as the only Ground he had got to stand upon, however momentarily slipping from under his Feet.

[From the Third Edition.]

Footnotes:

1. Some of Omar's Rubaiyat warn us of the danger of Greatness, the instability of Fortune, and while advocating Charity to all Men, recommending us to be too intimate with none. Attar makes Nizam-ul-Mulk use the very words of his friend Omar [Rub. xxviii.], "When Nizam-ul-Mulk was in the Agony (of Death) he said, 'Oh God! I am passing away in the hand of the wind.'"
2. Though all these, like our Smiths, Archers, Millers, Fletchers, etc., may simply retain the Surname of an hereditary calling.
3. "Philosophe Musulman qui a vecu en Odeur de Saintete dans sa Religion, vers la Fin du premier et le Commencement du second Siecle," no part of which, except the "Philosophe," can apply to our Khayyam.
4. The Rashness of the Words, according to D'Herbelot, consisted in being so opposed to those in the Koran: "No Man knows where he shall die."--This story of Omar reminds me of another so naturally--and when one remembers how wide of his humble mark the noble sailor aimed--so pathetically told by Captain Cook--not by Doctor Hawkworth--in his Second Voyage (i. 374). When leaving Ulietea, "Oreo's last request was for me to return. When he saw he could not obtain that promise, he asked the name of my Marai (burying-place). As strange a question as this was, I hesitated not a moment to tell him 'Stepney'; the parish in which I live when in London. I was made to repeat it several times over till they could pronounce it; and then 'Stepney Marai no Toote' was echoed through an hundred mouths at once. I afterwards found the same question had been put to Mr. Forster by a man on shore; but he gave a different, and indeed more proper answer, by saying, 'No man who used the sea could say where he should be buried.'"
5. "Since this paper was written" (adds the Reviewer in a note), "we have met with a Copy of a very rare Edition, printed at Calcutta in 1836. This contains 438 Tetrastichs, with an Appendix containing 54 others not found in some MSS."
6. Professor Cowell.

المشاركة الأصلية كتبت بواسطة برق يا راقل كلو من موقع ويكيبيديا روح ودور لحالك رح بتلاقي بالهبل Wikipedia يلا طير

المشاركة الأصلية كتبت بواسطة صايع بس ولد ناس ويكيبيديا مال أول ممنوع نستخدمو بالجامعة .. لأنا ما بنستخدم الا مصادر موثوقة