Life, 1923-01-25 · page 5 of 36
Life — January 25, 1923 — page 5: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This page commemorates the 800th anniversary of Omar Khayyam's death (1123), the Persian poet-mathematician. The poem uses his famous association with hedonism—wine, song, and earthly pleasures—to meditate on mortality and legacy. The satirical point appears gentle: while Omar's sensual pleasures have faded into history, his artistic and intellectual contributions endure. The poem contrasts his "mirth and music" with lasting cultural impact, suggesting that life's true measure lies in what we leave behind rather than momentary indulgence. The illustration shows a domestic scene of a woman reading to a child, reinforcing themes of wisdom and memory passing between generations—a fitting visual for a piece about artistic legacy. The initials "E.F.H." credit the poem's author.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
MLC Lines to the Tentmaker In commemoration of the cight-hundredth anniversary of the death of Ghiyathuddin Abulfath Omar bin Ibrahim al- Khayyam, called Omar Khayyam, in Nishapur, Persia, in 1123. ACK, old Omar, they have had their will— We measure life no longer, as of old, ‘Those envious ones who bade thy song be still, In mirth and music won from sterile mould, Who grudged the beaded bubbles in the cup A wiser day has dawned; we laugh no more The all-too-simple purpose they fulfill. And count the years in stacks of minted gold. The parched and flaking vessels will not pour, Now artisans will have a truer eye And we, O Brother, must unlearn the lore And potters’ vessels will not limp awry, That issued from thy purple-stainéd mouth, But who will banish from our memories For shrewder syllables of gain and store. Shy laughter and warm pity gone for aye? Sound be your sleeping, Brother, soundly rest. Indced “the wine you drank, the lip you pressed” Are come to naught. “An empty glass” indeed; A loveless, mirthless lip, a darkening West. E. F. H. Little Girl: Sis, what’s a conscience? Sister: It is something within you that tells you when a thing is right or wrong. Little Girl: Oh, no! That’s mother, comicbooks.com