Sat Sep 24, 2005 9:43 pm
One of my favourite poems is The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, which in many ways is a Song of Praise to Wine and drowning your sorrows.
But they say that truth is often spoken when drunk:
'Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:
Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays.
......
The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on; nor all thy Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.
Possibly very out of fashion, and not to everyone's taste, but it certainly paints a picture and contains more than a grain of truth.
Sue
Rach
