Edward Fitzgerald

(31 March 1809 – 14 June 1883 / Suffolk / England)

Edward Fitzgerald
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Edward FitzGerald was an English poet and writer, best known as the poet of the first and most famous English translation of The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam.

Life

Fitzgerald was born near Woodbridge, Suffolk. He was one of eight children and his parents owned a number of estates in England and Ireland. He was educated at the King Edward VI Grammar School and Trinity College, Cambridge.

He spent most of his life in Suffolk where he lived the life of a country gentleman rarely travelling, except to London. He lived for sixteen years on his family estate at Boulge and spent the remainder of his life in Woodbridge.

In 1850 he married the daughter of the ... more »

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  • Rookie Richard Stanley-baker (11/13/2011 8:02:00 PM)

    Edward Fitzgerald was a major literary figure, and poet, whose stature has probably not yet been fully appreciated. His translations of Omar Khayyam's Rubaiyat are gracious, penetrating, and brilliant: his best was the first one, which touches on the heart of mysteries of Sufism that had yet to be touched on in English literature. People who have expressed the view that the Rubaiyat is simply courtly hedonism are very much mistaken; the work to be read here is the commentary on Fitzgerald's work by Paramhansa Yogananda, edited by Donald Waters published by Crystal Clarity, Nevada.
    I find, as a poet myself, Fitzgerald's work to be utterly brilliant, and something that plumbs great depths. Richard Stanley-Baker

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Famous Poets
Best Poem of Edward Fitzgerald

The Dream Called Life

From the Spanish of Pedro Calderon de la Barca


A dream it was in which I found myself.
And you that hail me now, then hailed me king,
In a brave palace that was all my own,
Within, and all without it, mine; until,
Drunk with excess of majesty and pride,
Methought I towered so big and swelled so wide
That of myself I burst the glittering bubble
Which my ambition had about me blown,
And all again was darkness. Such a dream
As this, in which I may be walking now,
Dispensing solemn justice to you shadows,
Who make believe to listen; but anon
Kings, ...

Read the full of The Dream Called Life

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