Omar Khayyam - And much as Wine has play’d the Infidel

Ivan M. Granger April 24th, 2009

[71] And much as Wine has play’d the Infidel,
by Omar Khayyam

English version by Edward FitzGerald

And much as Wine has play’d the Infidel,
And robb’d me of my Robe of Honor — well,
      I often wonder what the Vintners buy
One half so precious as the Goods they sell.

— from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, by Omar Khayyam / Translated by Edward FitzGerald


/ Photo by jurvetson /

Wine, as I’ve mentioned elsewhere, is a metaphor for the heavenly drink of bliss. Here Omar Khayyam is speaking of the Infidel wine with an ironic double meaning. On the one hand it is the forbidden earthly drink in the Islamic world, the drink tasted only by “Infidels.” (Of course, in reality, many Muslims drink alcohol without feeling it limits the depth of their faith.) On the other hand, wine is the promised drink of paradise. In the very foundations of Islam, wine has had a dual nature, from the profane to the most sacred — and Sufi poetry loves to play with this paradox.

For Khayyam, it is the heavenly wine, the drink of bliss that has played the Infidel by robbing him of his “Robe and Honor.” This is a reference to how the nondualistic perspective that overwhelmes you in deep bliss makes all distinctions and social roles, even religious roles and positions of honor, empty. You recognize yourself as essentially whole, even though you stand naked, stripped of the robes of social position. The Infidel Wine has made you an infidel to the outer forms of religion and social honor.

We are all of us “Vintners,” makers of the wine of divine union. But, Khayyam asks, what can we buy in the world — money, power, position, fame, companionship — that is even half as valuable as the heavenly wine we waste in order to gain those things?

It is best to spend our lives in quiet fermentation, cultivating within ourselves heavenly wine, and drinking deeply until we become drunk in indescribable joy!

Omar Khayyam, Omar Khayyam poetry, Muslim / Sufi poetry Omar Khayyam

Iran/Per (11th Century) Timeline
Muslim / Sufi

Omar Khayyam was best known in his time as a mathematician and astronomer. His theorems are still studied by mathematicians today. His poetry really only became widely read when Edward FitzGerald collected several quatrains (rubaiyat) that were attributed to Khayyam and translated them into English as the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

The common view in the West of the Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam is that it is a collection of sensual love poems. Although some scholars debate this question, many people assert that Omar Khayyam was a Sufi, as well as a poet and mathematician, and that his Rubaiyat can only be truly understood using the language of mystical metaphor.

More poetry by Omar Khayyam

4 Responses to “Omar Khayyam - And much as Wine has play’d the Infidel”

  1. davidon 24 Apr 2009 at 4:21 pm

    enjoyed reading your take on these lines.
    Not sure about your conclusion though.
    as Rabia commented if my motivation is for heaven , deny me heaven, if from fear of hell,
    send me to hell..
    so what is her motivation?

  2. Veenaon 24 Apr 2009 at 8:24 pm

    I
    ,
    drunk on Divine Wine
    ,
    see You
    ,
    better beyond time.

  3. Aristideson 25 Apr 2009 at 11:52 am

    “And much as Wine has play’d the Infidel,
    And robb’d me of my Robe of Honor”:

    None attains to the Degree of Truth until a thousand honest people have testified he is a heretic.
    -Junaid of Baghdad

  4. Joey Connollyon 25 Apr 2009 at 6:09 pm

    Your comment is awaiting moderation. William Butler Yeats wrote, A DIALOGUE of SELF and SOUL-

    I am content to follow its source
    Every event in action or in thought;
    Measure the lot; forgive myself the lot!
    When such as I cast out remorse
    So great a sweetness flows into the breast
    We must laugh and we must sing,
    We are blest by everything,
    Everything we look upon is blest

    and I, Joey B. Connolly, wrote:

    I am content to swallow grape fluids
    Every drop in bottle or decanter
    Praising then this red or white enchanter
    Till blue in the face like drunken Druids
    So great a sweetness flows into the breast
    We must let our sorrows pass
    We are blessed by every glass
    Every drop we drink of it is blessed

Trackback URI | Comments RSS

Leave a Reply