AutumnTuesday, November 4, 2025
13 Aban 1404
Quatrain 72 of 75
“Why, if the Soul can fling the Dust aside,
And naked on the Air of Heaven ride,
Wer't not a Shame—wer't not a Shame for him
In this clay carcass crippled to abide?”
Omar Khayyamtr. Edward FitzGerald, 1859
Reflection · Autumn 1404
In autumn the question of the soul in the clay carcass acquires a different valence. Wer't not a Shame for him in this clay carcass crippled to abide — in autumn the carcass is demonstrably more crippled, the clay more obviously clay. If the soul can fling the dust aside — can it? This is autumn's version of the question: the summer's confidence has dissipated, the soul's ability to fly is less certain.
Maybe it cannot fly. Maybe the clay is all there is. And if so: the shame would be in not inhabiting it fully.