Home page | About this website | Contact | Sitemap
You are here: Home page » The quatrains

McCarthy, J.H. [1889]

Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. Translated by Justin Huntly McCarthy. In the Strand, Nutt, 1889

SINCE IT IS THE FATE OF MAN UPON
THIS HATEFUL EARTH TO FEED ON
SORROW AND TO VEX HIS SOUL, HE
MUST BE ACCOUNTED HAPPY WHO DE-
PARTS SWIFTLY FROM THE WORLD, BUT
HE MOST HAPPY WHO NEVER COMES
INTO THE WORLD.

THE SECRET OF ETERNITY IS FAR
FROM THEE AND ME; THE WORD OF
THE ENIGMA IS UNKNOW TO THEE
AND ME; BEHIND THE VEIL IS SPEECH
OF THEE AND ME; BUT IF THE VEIL BE
RENT, WHAT HAPS TO THEE AND ME?

WITHOUT CLEAR WINE I CANNOT
LIVE; WITHOUT THE WINE-CUP I CAN-
NOT LIFT THE LOAD OF LIFE; I AM
THE SLAVE OF THAT FAIR HOUR WHEN
THE CUP-BEARER BIDS ME DRAIN YET
ANOTHER CUP AND I CANNOT.

THE ROSE SAID, 'I AM THE YUSUF
FLOWER, FOR MY MOUTH IS FULL OF
GOLD AND JEWELS.' I SAID, "IF THOU
ART THE YUSUF FLOWER, SHOW ME A
CERTAIN SIGN THEREOF." AND SHE
MADE ANSWER, "PERCHANCE THAT I
AM GARBED IN A BLOOD-DRENCHED
GARMENT."

LONG TIME I SOUGHT IN THIS
SHIFTING WORLD FOR A MOMENT'S
HALTING-PLACE. I SPENT IN MY EN-
DEAVOURS ALL MY WIT, AND LO! I
LEARN THAT THE MOON IS BUT A
PALLID WHEEL BESIDE THY BEAUTY,
THAT THE CYPRESS, BY THE SLENDER
FORM, SEEMS A GROTESQUE DEFORMITY.

YEA, DRINK WINE, FOR BY HIM
WHO IS FAR-SEEING AS I AM, IT WILL
BE FOUND THAT IN THE EYES OF THE
DEITY THE ACT IS OF SMALL ACCOUNT.
GOD FROM ALL TIME HAS FORESEEN
THAT I SHOULD DRINK WINE. IF I
DRANK NOT, THIS FORE-KNOWLEDGE
WOULD BECOME IGNORANCE, OR I
SHOULD NOT FULFIL HIS FORE-KNOW-
LEDGE.

RISE AND COME HITHER, AND FOR
MINE HEART’S EASE SOLVE AT LAST
ONE PROBLEM: BRING SWIFTLY HERE
A FLASK OF ANCIENT WINE, THAT WE
MAY DRINK OUR FILL BEFORE FOLK
MAKE FLAGONS OF OUR CLAY.

WHEN I AM DEAD, WASH ME WITH
VINTAGE JUICE; INSTEAD OF PRAYERS
RECITE OVER MY TOMB HYMNALS OF
WINE AND FLAGONS, AND IF YOU SEEK
ME AT THE LATTER DAY, LOOK FOR ME
IN THE DUST UPON THE TAVERN THRES-
HOLD.

SINCE NO MAN DARES PLAY PROPHET
FOR TO-MORROW, HASTEN TO LIFT THY
HEAVY LADEN HEART. DRAIN, O DE-
LIGHTFUL MOON, A CRIMSON CUP, FOR
HEAVEN’S MOON WILL TURN A WEARY
WHILE AND FAIL TO FIND US.

LET THE LUCKY LOVER BE DRUNK
FROM YEAR’S END TO YEAR’S END,
DRENCHED IN WINE AND GARBED IN
SHAME; FOR WHEN WE ARE WISE AND
WIDE-AWAKE SORROW ASSAULTS US
FROM ALL QUARTERS, BUT NO SOONER
ARE WE DRUNK THAN WE LAUGH AT
FORTUNE.

IN HEAVEN’S NAME, WHY DOES THE
PHILOSOPHER SET HIS HEART UPON
THE TROPHIES OF THIS HOUSE OF
MANY SORROWS? LET HIM WHO CALLS
ME DRUNKARD CLEAR HIS EYES AND
TELL ME IF HE SEES ON HIGH EVEN
THE SIGN OF A TAVERN.

EVERY MORN I SAY, THIS SHALL
BE THE NIGHT OF REPENTANCE, REPENT-
ANCE FROM THE FLAGON, AND FORM
THE BOWL BRIMMING OVER, REPENT-
ANCE. YET NOW THAT THE SEASON
OF ROSES HAS COME SET ME FREE IN
THE TIME OF THE ROSE FROM RE-
PENTANCE, O LORD OF REPENTANCE!

SPEAK SOOTH, THOU LITTLE WHEEL,
WHAT HAVE I DONE TO THEE, THAT
THUS, BEATEN AND PERSECUTED, I
SHOULD BE DRIVEN BY THEE TO BEG
MY BREAD FROM TOWN TO TOWN AND
FIND MY DRAUGHT IN THE FLOWING
STREAM?

I PASSED BY WHERE A POTTER
KNEADED EARTH AND I BEHELD WHAT
HE DID NOT BEHOLD,THAT IT WAS
MY FATHER’S DUST WHICH LAY IN THE
PALM OF THAT POTTER.

MAN IS LIKE UNTO A FLAGON AND
HIS SOUL IS THE WINE THEREIN: HIS
MOULD IS LIKE UNTO A REED, AND
HIS SOUL IS THE SOUND THEREIN. WHAT
IS EARTHLY MAN, O KHAYYAM, BUT A
PAPER LANTERN OF FANCY AND A
LAMP THEREIN.

SINCE LIFE SELDOM ANSWERS TO
OUR HEART’S DESIRE, OF WHAT AVAIL
ARE ALL OUR HOPES AND ALL OUR
STRIVINGS? OUR SPIRITS ARE ALWAYS
VEXED, ALWAYS ARE WE SAYING IN
SIGHING, “TOO LATE WE CAME, TOO
SOON WE MUST DEPART.”

SINCE THE HEAVENLY WHEEL AND
FATE HAVE NEVER BEEN YOUR FRIENDS,
WHY SHOULD YOU RECK WHETHER THE
HEAVENS BE SEVEN OR EIGHT? THERE
ARE, I SAY AGAIN, TWO DAYS FOR
WHICH I TAKE NO THOUGHT, THE
DAY WHICH HAS NOT COME, AND THE
DAY WHICH HAS GONE FOR EVER.

O KHAYAM, WHY SO MUCH MOURN-
ING FOR YOUR SIN? WHAT CONSOLA-
TION CAN YOU FIND IN THUS PLAGU-
ING YOURSELF? HE WHO HAS NEVER
SINNED CAN NEVER TASTE THE SWEET
OF FOREGIVENESS. MERCY WAS MADE
FOR THE SAKE OF SIN, THEREFORE,
WHY ARE YOU AFRAID?

NO ONE HAS EVER PASSED BEHIND
THE VEIL THAT MASKS THE SECRETS
OF GOD. NO ONE SHALL EVER PASS
BEHIND IT; THERE IS NO OTHER
DWELLING-PLACE FOR US THAN THE
BOSOM OF THE EARTH. WOE’S ME
THAT THIS SECRET, TOO, SHOULD BE
SO SHORT.

I MYSELF WILL POOR WINE INTO A
CUP WHICH CONTAINETH A FULL
MEASURE. TWO CUPS THEREOF WILL
CONTENT ME, BUT I WILL IMMEDIATELY
THREE TIMES DIVORCE FROM ME
RELIGION AND REASON, AND WED THE
DAUGHTER OF THE VINE.

OH, MY BELOVED, FULL OF GRACES
AND WITCHERIES, SEAT THYSELF; AND
THUS, QUENCHING THE FLAMES OF A
THOUSAND DESIRES RISE NOT UP AGAIN.
THOU FORBIDDEST ME TO GAZE UPON
THEE, BUT THOU MIGHT AS WELL COM-
MAND ME TO TURN DOWN THE CUP,
WITHOUT SPILLING THE CONTENTS
THEREOF.

SEEK THE COMPANY OF MEN OF
RIGHTEOUSNESS AND UNDERSTANDING,
AND FLY A THOUSAND LEAGUES
FROM A MAN WITHOUT IT. IF A
WISE MAN GIVETH THEE POISON, FEAR
NOT TO DRINK THEREOF, BUT IF A
FOOL OFFERETH THEE AN ANTIDOTE,
POUR IT OUT UPON THE EARTH.

MY WELL BELOVED, MAY HER DAYS
BE LONG AS MY SORROWS, IS KIND
TO ME AGAIN. SHE CAST UPON ME A
SWEET AND FLEETING GLANCE, AND
STRAIGHTWAY VANISHED, SAYING, NO
DOUBT, “LET ME DO GOOD AND CAST
IT ON THE WATER.”

THE KORAN, WHICH MEN CALL THE
HOLY WORD, IS NONE THE LESS READ
ONLY FROM TIME TO TIME, AND NOT
WITH STEADFAST STUDY, WHILE ON
THE LIP OF THE CUP THERE RUNS A
LUMINOUS VERSE WHICH WE LOVE
TO READ ALWAYS AND EVER.

YOU WHO DRINK NO WINE, BLAME
NOT THE BIBBERS, FOR I WOULD
LIEFER RENOUNCE HEAVEN THAN RE-
NOUNCE THE JUICE OF THE GRAPE.
YOU PLUME YOURSELF UPON YOUR
TEMPERANCE, BUT THIS FALSE GLORY
SITS VILELY ON ONE WHO COMMITS
DEEDS A THOUSAND TIMES MORE VILE
THAN HONEST DRUNKENNESS.

ALTHOUGH MY BODY ME BE COMELY,
ALTHOUGH ITS ODOUR MAY BE SUAVE,
ALTHOUGH MY COLOUR MAY MOCK THE
TULIP, AND MY FIGURE SHAME THE
CYPRESS, IT IS NOT CLEAR TO ME,
NEVERTHELESS, WHY MY HEAVENLY
PAINTER HAS DEIGNED TO LIMN ME
ON THIS WORLD.

I WHISH TO DRINK SO DEEP, SO DEEP
OF WINE THAT ITS FRAGRANCE MAY
HANG ABOUT THE SOIL WHERE I SHALL
SLEEP, AND THAT REVELLERS, STILL
DIZZY FROM LAST NIGHT’S WASSAIL,
SHALL, ON VISITING MY TOMB, FROM
ITS VERY PERFUME FALL DEAD DRUNK.

IN THE KINGDOM OF HOPE WIN ALL
THE HEARTS YOU CAN, IN THE KING-
DOM OF THE PRESENCE, BIND TO THY-
SELF A PERFECT SOUL, FOR, BE SURE,
A HUNDRED KAABAS, BLENT OF EARTH
AND WATER, ARE NOT WORTH A
SINGLE HEART. GIVE THEN THY
KAABA THE GO-BY, AND SEEK A HEART
INSTEAD.

OH, WHEEL OF FATE, DESTRUCTION
FALLS FROM THY UNCONQUERABLE
HATE. TYRANNY HAS BEEN THY PUR-
POSE AND THY PLEASURE FROM THE
BEGINNING OF THINGS. AND THOU
TOO, O EARTH, IF WE BUT DIGGED
INTO THY BREAST, WHAT TREASURES
SHOULD WE NOT FIND THEREIN!

WHEN OUR BLOOD BEATS QUICKEST
WITH JOY OF THE GREEN EARTH, WHEN
THE STEEDS OF THE SUN SWEEP OVER
THE GREEN EARTH, I LOVE TO WANDER
WITH LOVELY GIRLS UPON THE
GREEN EARTH, MAKING MERRY TO-
GETHER BEFORE WE ARE ALL TURNED
TO GREEN EARTH.

EVERY DAY WHEN DAWN APPEARS,
I WILL HASTEN TO THE TAVERN
WITH THE CHEATING KALENDARS.
THEN, THOU THAT ART LORD OF THE
DEEPEST SECRETS OF MAN’S HEART,
GIVE ME FAITH, IF THOU WOULDEST
THAT I PUT FAITH IN PRAYER.

NEVER, ALAS, DO WE DRINK WITH
DELIGHT ONE DROP OF CLEAR WATER
WITHOUT AT THE SAME TIME DRAIN-
ING THE BOWL OF BITTER WINE FROM
THE HAND OF SORROW. NEVER DO
WE SHARPEN THE SAVOUR OF BREAD
WITH THE SAVOUR OF SALT WITHOUT
FEEDING UPON OUR OWN HEARTS.

TAKE A GRIP OF THE KORAN
WITH ONE HAND; HAVE A CLUTCH AT
THE CUP WITH THE OTHER, AND
TREMBLE BETWEEN THE LAWFUL AND
THE UNLAWFUL. SO SHALL WE SIT
BENEATH THE VAULTED SKY NEITHER
WHOLLY BELIEVERS NOR WHOLLY IN-
FIDEL.

WE SHOULD KEEP ALL OUR SECRETS
FROM THE INDISCREET, FROM THE
VERY NIGHTINGALE WE SHOULD HIDE
THEM. THINK THEN, O HEAVEN, UPON
THE HARM YOU WREAK UPON POOR
HUMAN HEARTS IN FORCING THEM
THUS TO HIDE FROM EACH OTHER’S
EYES.

O CUP-BEARER, SINCE TIME LURKS
HARD BY READY TO SHATTER YOU AND
ME, THIS WORLD CAN NEVER BE AN
ABIDING DWELLING FOR YOU AND ME.
BUT COME WHAT MAY, ASSURE YOUR-
SELF THAT GOD IS IN OUR HANDS
WHILE THIS CUP OF WINE STANDS
BETWEEN YOU AND ME.

WITH CUP IN HAND I LINGERED
LONG AMONG THE FLOWERS, AND YET
NOT ONE OF ALL MY WISHES HAS
BEEN REALIZED IN THIS WORLD. BUT
ALTHOUGH WINE HAS NOT LED ME TO
THE GOAL OF MY DESIRES, I WILL NOT
GO FROM THAT WAY, FOR WHEN MAN
FOLLOWS A ROAD HE TURNS NOT
BACK AGAIN.

PLACE THE WINE-CUP IN MY HAND,
FOR MY HEART IS ALL AFIRE AND
LIFE SLIPS FROM US SWIFT AS QUICK-
SILVER. ARISE, MY BELOVED, FOR THE
FAVOUR OF FORTUNE IS BUT A CHEAT-
ING DREAM, ARISE, FOR THE FLAME
OF YOUTH GUSHES LIKE THE WATER
OF THE TORRENT.

WE ARE THE SERVANTS OF LOVE;
THE DEVOUT ARE OTHERWISE. WE
ARE POOR ANTS, AND SOLOMON IS
OTHERWISE. ASK OF US A VISAGE
WAN WITH LOVE, AND TATTERED
GARMENTS FOR THE DAY OF THE
WORLD IS OTHERWISE.

ASCRIBE NOT TO THE WHEEL OF
HEAVEN THE WOE AND WEAL WHICH
ARE THE PORTION OF MAN, THE
THOUSAND JOYS AND THOUSAND
SORROWS WHICH FATE AWARDS US,
FOR THIS WHEEL, MY FRIEND, RE-
VOLVES MORE HELPLESS THAN THY-
SELF ALONG THE HIGHWAY OF THE
HEAVENLY LOVE.

I HAVE FLOWN LIKE A SPARROW-
HAWK FORTH FROM THIS WORLD OF
MYSTERIES, IN THE HOPE OF REACH-
ING A HIGHER SPHERE. BUT, FALLEN
AGAIN TO THE EARTH, AND FINDING
NONE WORTHY OF SHARING THE
HIDDEN THOUGHTS OF MY HEART, I
HAVE GONE FORTH AGAIN BY THE
DOOR THROUGH WHICH I CAME.

WE ARE LOST IN LOVE TO-DAY, IN
THE HOLY SHRINE WE PAY HOMAGE
TO WINE TO-DAY, SUNDERED FROM OUR
VERY BEING WE SHALL TOUCH THE
THRESHOLD OF THE ETERNAL THRONE
TO-DAY.

THE DAY WHEN I HOLD IN MY
HAND A CUP OF WINE, AND WHEN IN
THE JOY OFMY HEART I DRINK MY-
SELF DRUNK, THEN IN THAT HAPPY
STATE A HUNDRED MIRACLES BECOME
CLEAR TO ME, AND WORDS AS LIMPID
AS WATER EXPLAIN THE MYSTERY OF
THINGS.

SINCE EVERY DAY IS BUT TWO HALT-
ING PLACES, HASTEN TO DRINK THY
FILL OF WINE; FOR BE SURE OF THIS,
THOU WILL NEVER REGAIN THY LOST
HOURS, AND SINCE THOU KNOWEST
THAT THIS WORLD DRIVES SWIFTLY TO
ITS TOTAL RUIN, IMITATE IT THYSELF,
AND DAY AND NIGHT SEEK THE SWEET
ANNIHILATION OF WINE.

BEHOLD THE DAWN ARISE, O
FOUNTAIN OF DELIGHTS, DRINK YOUR
WINE AND TOUCH YOUR LUTE FOR
THE LIFE OF THOSE WHO SLEEP WILL
BE BUT GRIEF; AND OF THOSE WHO
HAVE GONE HENCE, NOT ONE WILL
E’ER RETURN.

YEA, IT IS I, WHO, IN THIS RUINED
TAVERN, SURROUNDED BY DRINKERS
AND DANCERS, HAVE STAKED, FOR
THEIR SAKES, ALL MY BELONGINGS,
SOUL AND HEART, AND WORDLY GEAR,
DOWN TO MY VERY DRINKING CUP.
THUS I SET MYSELF FREE FROM HOPE
OF HEAVEN AND FROM FEAR OF HELL.
THUS I AM ABOVE THE ELEMENTS,
EARTH, AIR, FIRE, AND WATER.

ONLY A BREATH DIVIDES FAITH AND
UNFAITH, ONLY A BREATH DIVIDES
BELIEF FROM DOUBT. LET US THEN
MAKE MERRY WHILE WE STILL DRAW
BREATH, FOR ONLY A BREATH DIVIDES
LIFE FROM DEATH.

THE LIGHT OF THE MOON HAS
SEVERED THE BLACK ROBE OF THE
NIGHT. DRINK WINE, THEREFORE, FOR
THOU WILT NEVER FIND A MOMENT
SO PRECIOUS. YES, GIBE THYSELF UP
TO JOY, FOR THIS SAME MOON WILL
ILLUMINE LONG AFTER US THE FACE
OF THE EARTH.

THE CLOUDS ARE SPREAD FORTH
AGAIN OVER THE FGACES OF THE ROSES,
AND COVER THEM AS WITH A VEIL.
THE DESIRE OF DRINK IS STILL UN-
QUENCHED WITHIN MY HEART. SEEK
NOT YET THY COUCH, FOR THE TIME
HAS NOT COME. OH, BELOVED, OF
MY SOUL, DRINK WINE, DRINK, FOR
THE SUN HAS NOT YET VANISHED
BENEATH THE HORIZON.

O THOU WHO KNOWEST MAN’S MOST
HIDDEN THOUGHTS, THOU WHO UP-
HOLDEST THE HALT WITH THY HANDS,
GIVE ME STRENGTH TO RENOUNCE,
AND HEED MY PLEADING, O THOU
WHO ART THE STRENGTH OF ALL MEN,
HEED MY PLEADING.

I SAW UPON THE WALLS OF THOUS
A BIRD PERCHED IN FRONT OF THE
SKULL OF KAI KHOSROU. THE BIRD
SAID UNTO THE SKULL, “ALEAS, WHAT
HAS BECOME OF THE CLASH OF THE
GEAR OF THY GLORY AND THE BRUIT
OF THY TRUMPETS?”

MY RUN OF LIFE SLIPS BY IN A FEW
DAYS. IT HAS PASSED ME BY LIKE
THE WIND OF THE DESERT. THERE-
FORE, SO LONG AS ONE BREATH OF
LIFE IS LEFT TO ME, THERE ARE TWO
DAYS WITH WHICH I SHALL NEVER
VEX MY SPIRIT, THE DAY THAT HAS
NOT YET COME, AND THE DAY THAT
HAS GONE BY.

THIS CAPTAIN RUBY COMES FROM
AN UNKNOWN MINE. THIS PERFECT
GEM IS STAMPED WITH AN UNKNOWN
SEAL. ALL OUR CONCLUSIONS ON THE
QUESTION ARE VAIN, FOR THE RIDDLE
OF PERFECT LOVE IS WRITTEN IN AN
UNKNOWN TONGUE.

SINCE THE DAY BRINGS WITH IT A
CONSCIOUSNESS OF YOUTH, I MEAN TO
WHILE IT AWAY WITH WINE EVEN TO
MY HEART’S DELIGHT. DO NOT BLAS-
PHEME, ON ACCOUNT OF ITS BITTER-
NESS, THIS GLORIOUS JUICE, FOR IT IS
A DELIGHT TO DRINK, AND BITTER
ONLY BECAUSE IT IS MY LIFE.

O, MY SAID SOUL, SINCE IT IS YOUR
DESTINY TO BE PIERCED TO THE
QUICK BY SORROW, SINCE NATURE
BIDS THAT YOU SHALL BE TROUBLED
EVERY DAY WITH A NEW TORMENT,
THEREFORE, O MY SOUL, TELL ME
WHY YOU TOOK UP YOUR ABODE IN
MY BODY, SEEING THAT YOU MUST
ONE DAY QUIT IT.

ON THAT DAY OF DAYS WHICH MEN
CALL RESTFUL, SET ASIDE THE CUP
AND DRINK YOUR WINE FROM A
LARGER MEASURE. IF YOU PLEDGE
OTHER DAYS WITH BUT A SINGLE
DRAUGHT, THIS DAY DRINK TWICE,
FOR IT IS INDEED THE DAY OF DAYS.

HIM, ON WHOM YOU LEAN WITH SO
MUCH CONFIDENCE, HIM, IF YOUR EYES
WERE UNSEALED, YOU WOULD KNOW
FOR YOUR WORST ENEMY. IT IS WISE
IN THESE EVIL DAYS TO SEEK BUT
LITTLE AFTER FRIENDSHIP. THE
SPEECH OF YOUR FELLOWS RINGS FAIR
ONLY FROM AFAR.

OH, MY HEART, SINCE THIS WORLD
GREEVES THEE, SINCE THY PURE SOUL
MUST SO SOON BE SEVERED FROM THY
BODY, SIT THEE DOWN IN THE GRASSY
FIELDS AND MAKE MERRY AWHILE,
BEFORE OTHER GRASSES SPRING FROM
THY VERY DUST.

ALTHOUGH THIS WINE IN ITS ES-
SENCE IS CAPABLE OF TAKING A
THOUSAND SHAPES, ASSUMING NOW THE
FORM OF AN ANIMAL, NOW THE FORM
OF A PLANT, DO NOT THEREFORE
BELIEVE THAT IT CAN EVER CEASE TO
BE, AND THAT ITS ESSENCE CAN BE
DESTROYED, FOR THERE IS THE
REALITY WHEN THE SHADOWS DIS-
APPEAR.

I SEE NO SMOKE ARISE FROM THE
FIRE OF MY SINS; I EXPECT A FAIRER
FATE FROM NO MAN. IF THE IN-
JUSTICE OF MEN MAKES ME LIFT MY
HAND TO MY HEAD, I FIND NO SOLACE
IN LAYING IT ON THE HEM OF THEIR
GABERDINES.

LET US BEGIN AGAIN THE ROUND
OF OUR PLEASURES; LET US CONTINUE
TO DISDAIN THE ROUND OF PRAYERS.
WHEREVER THE WINE-FLAGON IS TO BE
FOUND, THERE ALSO THOU MAYEST SEE,
LIKE UNTO THE NECK OF THE FLAGON
ITSELF, OUR THROATS STRETCHED OUT
TO THE CUP.

HERE, BELOW, WE ARE NAUGHT BUT
PUPPETS FOR THE DIVERSION OF THE
WHEEL OF THE HEAVENS. THIS IS
INDEED A TRUTH, AND NO SIMILE.
WE TRULY ARE BUT PIECES ON
THIS CHESSBOARD OF HUMANITY,
WHICH IN THE END WE LEAVE, ONLY
TO ENTER, ONE BY ONE, INTO THE
GRAVE OF NOTHINGNESS.

IN MOSQUE, IN SCHOOL, IN CHURCH,
IN SYNAGOGUE, MEN FEAR FOR HELL
AND HOPE FOR PARADISE, BUT THE
SEED OF THIS UNCERTAINTY HAS
NEVER SPROUTED IN THE SOUL OF
HIM WHO HAS PENETRATED THE
SECRETS OF THE ALL-WISE.

THOU ASKEST ME THE MEANING OF
THIS PHANTASMAGORIA OF THINGS
HERE BELOW. TO EXPOUND THE
WHOLE OF IT TO THEE WOULD BE A
WORK WITHOUT END. IT IS A FAN-
TASTIC VISION, WHICH SPRINGS FROM
A BOUNDLESS OCEAN, AND SINKS AGAIN
INTO THE SAME OCEAN FROM WHICH
IT AROSE.

LET US ABANDON THE VAIN SEARCH
AFTER THE UNATTAINABLE, AND GIVE
OURSELVES UP WHOLLY TO THE JOYS
OF THE PRESENT, TO TOUCHING THE
LONG TRESSES TREMBLING TO THE
MELODIOUS SOUND OF THE HARP.

WE YIELD OURSELVES TO THE COM-
MANDS OF WINE, JOYOUSLY WE OFFER
OUR SOULS IN SACRIFICE TO THE
SMILING STREAM OF THE WHOLLY JUICE.
BEHOLD OUR MINISTER OF WINE, IN
ONE HAND THE FLAGON, IN THE
OTHER THE BRIMMING CUP, BIDDING
US QUAFF THE PUREST WINE OF HIS
SOUL.

YOU HAVE WANDERED UPON THE
FACE OF THE EARTH, BUT ALL THAT
YOU HAVE KNOWN IS NOTHING, ALL
THAT YOU HAVE SEEN, ALL THAT YOU
HAVE HEARD, IS NOTHING. THOUGH
YOU TRAVEL FROM WORLD’S END TO
WORLD’S END, ALL THAT IS NOTHING,
ALTHOUGH YOU ABIDE IN A CORNER OF
YOUR HOUSE, ALL THAT IS NOTHING.

ONE NIGHT I BEHELD IN A DREAM
A SAGE, WHO SAID TO ME, “IN SLEEP,
O MY FRIEND, THE ROSE OF JOY HAS
NEVER BLOSSOMED FOR ANY MAN?
WHY DO YOU DO A DEED SO LIKE TO
DEATH? ARISE, AND DRINK WINE, FOR
YOU WILL SLEEP SOUND ENOUGH BE-
NEATH THE EARTH.”

FLING DUST TO THE SKIES, AND DRINK
DEEP OF THE WINE-FLAGON; SEEK
EVER THE FAIREST WOMEN. TO WHAT
END DOST THOU SUE FOR PARDON,
TO WHAT END DOST YOU PRAY, SEE-
ING THAT OF ALL THOSE DEPARTED
HENCE, NOT ONE HAS RETURNED?

IF THE HUMAN HEART COULD KNOW
THE SECRETS OF LIFE, IT WOULD
KNOW TOO, KNOWING DEATH, THE
SECRETS OF GOD. IF TO-DAY, WHEN
YOU ARE YOURSELF, YOU KNOW
NOTHING, WHAT SHALL YOU KNOW
TO-MORROW, WHEN YOU HAVE PASSED
FROM YOURSELF?

THOUGH HEAVEN AND EARTH WERE
BLENT TOGETHER, THOUGH ALL THE
LUSTRE OF THE STARS WENT OUT, I
WOULD WAIT IN YOUR PATH, O BELOVED,
AND ASK OF YOU WHY YOU HAVE
TAKEN AWAY MAY LIFE.

THANK GOD, THE HOUR OF ROSES
HAS ARRIVED, FROM THE HEART I
DELIGHT IN THE THOUGHT OF BREAK-
ING THE LAW OF ALKORAN. FOR
MANY A DAY I MEAN TO DELIGHT ME
WITH GIRLS OF LOVELY FACE AND
LOVELY BODY, AND TO TURN THE
MEADOW TO A TULIP-BED BY THE
SPILTH OF MY WINE ON THE GREEN
SWARD.

ALTHOUGH, TRULY, I HAVE NEVER
PIERCED THE PEARL OF OBEDIENCE
WHICH WE OWE TO THEE, ALTHOUGH
I HAVE NEVER SWEPT THE DUST OF
THY STEPS FROM MY HEART, I DO
NOT DESPAIR OF REACHING TO THE
FOOT OF THE THRONE OF THY MERCY,
FOR I HAVE NEVER WORRIED THEE
WITH MY IMPORTUNATE PRAYERS.

THIS JAR HAS BEEN, LIKE ME,
A CREATURE, LOVING AND UNHAPPY; IT
HAS SIGHED FOR THE LONG TRESSES
OF SOME FAIR YOUNG GIRL; THAT
HANDLE BY WHICH YOU HOLD IT NOW,
WAS ONCE A LOVING ARM TO LINGER
FONDLY ROUND SOME FAIR ONE'S NECK.

DO NOT HEEDLESSLY BEAT AT EVERY
PORTAL. WE MUST LEARN TO TAKE
THE GOOD WITH THE BAD IN THIS
LIFE, FOR WE CAN ONLY PLAY THE
GAME ACCORDING TO THE NUMBER OF
DOTS ON THE FACE OF THE DICE
WHICH DESTINY THROWS INTO
THE HOLLOW OF THIS HEAVENLY CUP.

BEFORE EVER YOU OR I WERE BORN,
THERE WERE DAWNS AND TWILIGHTS,
AND IT WAS NOT WITHOUT DESIGN
THAT THE REVOLUTIONS OF THE SKIES
WERE SANCTIONED. BE CAREFUL,
THEN, HOW YOU TREAD UPON THIS
DUST, FOR IT WAS ONCE, NO DOUBT,
THE APPLE OF SOME FAIR GIRL'S EYE.

YOU CANNOT ASSURE YOURSELF TO-
DAY THAT YOU SHALL BEHOLD TO-
MORROW'S DAWN; EVEN TO DWELL
UPON TO-MORROW IS MERE MADNESS;
IF YOUR HEART IS WIDE AWAKE, DO
NOT WASTE IN TORPOR THIS LITTLE
PINCH OF LIFE, FOR THERE IS NO
PROOF HOW LONG IT SHALL ABIDE
WITH YOU.

QUESTION ME NOT UPON THE VA-
GARIES OF THIS WORLD, NOR OF THE
THINGS THAT YET MAY BE. LOOK
UPON THIS PRESENT HOUR AS PLUN-
DER FROM DESTINY. VEX NOT THY-
SELF ABOUT THE PAST, NOR PLAGUE
ME ABOUT THE FUTURE.

THE TEMPLES OF THE GODS AND
KAABAS ARE PLACES OF PRAISE, THE
CHIMING OF BELLS IS NAUGHT BUT A
HYMN RAISED IN PRAISE OF THE ALL
POTENT, THE PULPIT, THE CHURCH,
THE BEADS, THE CROSS, ARE ALL BUT
DIFFERENT SYMBOLS OF THE SAME
HOMAGE TO THE SAME LORD.

LET NOT THE FEAR OF THINGS TO
BE MAKE SALLOW THY CHEEK, LET
NOT THINGS PRESENT MAKE THEE
BLANCH WITH FEAR. ENJOY, IN THIS
LAND OF SHADOWS, THY SHARE OF
DELIGHT, AND DO NOT WAIT THERE-
FOR UNTIL HEAVEN’S GIFTS ARE
SNATCHED AWAY FROM YOU.

NO FALSE MONEY CIRCULATES WITH
US. THE BROOM HAS CLEANLY SWEPT
OUR HAPPY HOME. AN OLD MAN
COMING FROM THE TAVERN SAID,
COUNSELLING ME, "DRINK, FRIEND,
DRINK WINE, FOR MANY LIVES WILL
FOLLOW YOURS DURING YOUR LONG
SLEEP."

THESE TRAVELLERS HAVE DEPARTED,
AND OF THEM ALL, NOT ONE HAS RE-
TURNED TO TELL US OF THE HIDDEN
THINGS CONCEALED BEHIND THE VEIL.
OH, DEVOUT MAN, IT IS BY A HUMBLE
HEART, AND NOT BY PRAYER, THAT
THE THINGS WHICH CONCERN THY
SOUL WILL BE BROUGHT TO A FAVOUR-
ABLE ISSUE, FOR PRAYER IS OF NO
AVAIL TO A MAN WITHOUT SINCERITY
AND CONTRITION.

IF YOU WILL HEARKEN, I WILL GIVE
YOU GOOD COUNSEL. DO NOT DON
THE CLOAK OF HYPOCRISY FOR THE
LOVE OF GOD. ETERNITY IS OF ALL
TIME, AND THIS WORLD IS BUT OF A
MOMENT. DO NOT, THEN, BARTER FOR
A MOMENT THE EMPERY OF ETERNITY.

HOW LONG SHALL I VEX YOU WITH
MINE IGNORANCE? MY NOTHINGNESS
OPPRESSES MY HEART. EVEN NOW I
WILL BIND MY LOINS WITH THE GIRDLE
OF THE PRIESTS. WHEREFORE? BE-
CAUSE I WEARY OF MY WAY OF LIFE.

THOU HAST PLANTED IN OUR HEARTS
AN IRRESISTIBLE DESIRE, AND AT THE
SAME TIME THOU HAST FORBIDDEN US
TO SATISFY IT. IN WHAT A STRAIT
DOST THOU FIND THYSELF, OH, UN-
HAPPY MAN, BETWEEN THIS LAW OF
THY NATURE, AND THIS COMMAND-
MENT? IT IS AS IF THOU WERT
ORDERED TO TURN DOWN THE CUP,
WITHOUT SPILLING THE CONTENTS
THEREOF.

O KHAYYAM, WHEN YOU ARE DRUNK
BE MERRY; WHEN YOU ARE WITH
YOUR MISTRESS, BE GLAD; SINCE THE
END OF THIS WORLD IS NOTHINGNESS,
THINK THAT YOU ARE NOT, AND WHILE
YOU ARE, BE JOCUND.

ALL THINGS THAT BE WERE LONG
SINCE MARKED UPON THE TABLET OF
CREATION. HEAVEN’S PENCIL HAS
NAUGHT TO DO WITH GOOD OR EVIL.
GOD SET ON FATE ITS NECESSARY
SEAL; AND ALL OUR EFFORTS ARE
BUT A VAIN STRIVING.

I WOULD RATHER IN THE TAVERN
WITH THEE POUR OUT ALL THE
THOUGHTS OF MY HEART, THAN WITH-
OUT THEE GO AND MAKE MY PRAYER
UNTO HEAVEN. THIS, TRULY, O
CREATOR OF ALL THINGS PRESENT AND
TO COME, IS MY RELIGION; WHETHER
THOU CASTEST ME INTO THE FLAMES,
OR MAKEST ME GLAD WITH THE LIGHT
OF THY COUNTENANCE.

I CANNOT LIGHTLY DISCLOSE MY
SECRET TO THE BAD AND THE GOOD
ALIKE. I CANNOT AMPLIFY MY SIMPLE
THOUGHT. I BEHOLD A PLACE THAT I
CANNOT DESCRIBE; I HOLD A SECRET
THAT I CANNOT REVEAL.

IN THE FACE OF THE DECREES OF
PROVIDENCE, NOTHING SUCCEEDS SAVE
RESIGNATION. AMONG MEN NOTHING
SUCCEEDS SAVE COUNTERFEIT AND
HYPOCRISY. I HAVE EMPLOYED ALL
THE MOST SKILFUL RUSES THAT THE
HUMAN MIND CAN SCHEME, BUT FATE
HAS ALWAYS OVERTURNED MY PROJECTS.

IF A STRANGER SERVES YOU FAITH-
FULLY, THINK OF HIM AS CLOSE OF
KIN. IF ONE OF YOUR KIN BETRAY
YOU, THINK OF HIM AS ACTING IN
ERROR. IF A POISON CURES YOU,
CALL IT AN ANTIDOTE; IF AN ANTIDOTE
WORKS YOU ILL, CALL IT A POISON.

BEHOLD, THE TIME IS COME, WHEN
THE EARTH IS ABOUT TO CLOTHE IT-
SELF IN VERDURE, WHEN THE BLOS-
SOMS BREAKING FORTH OVER THE
BRANCHES, MAKE THEM BECOME AS
THE HAND OF MOSES, WHEN, AS IF
QUICKENED BY THE BREATH OF JESUS,
THE PLANTS SPRING FROM THE EARTH,
WHEN AT LAST THE CLOUDS OPEN
THEIR EYES TO WEEP.

LONG HAVE I SUNG THE PRAISE OF
WINE AND DWELT AMONG THE THINGS
OF ITS SERVICE. MAY YOU BE HAPPY,
MY PHILOSOPHER, IN THE BELIEF
THAT YOU HAVE TAKEN WISDOM FOR
YOUR MASTER) BUT LEARN, TOO, THAT
THAT MASTER IS ONLY MY PUPIL.

GIVE NOT THYSELF OVER TO CARE
AND TO GRIEF IN THE HOPE OF GAIN-
ING YELLOW OR WHITE MONEY IN THE
'END. ENJOY THYSELF WITH THY
COMPANIONS, BEFORE THY WARM
BREATH BECOMES COLD, FOR THY
ENEMIES WILL FEAST IN THY ROOM
WHEN THOU ART DEPARTED.

SINCE IT IS CERTAIN THAT WE MUST
NEEDS GO HENCE, WHAT IS THE USE
OF BEING? WHY SHOULD WE STRIVE
SO EAGERLY AFTER UNATTAINABLE
HAPPINESS? SINCE FOR SOME UN-
KNOWN REASON WE MAY NOT ABIDE
HERE, WERE IT NOT WELL TO THINK
A LITTLE UPON OUR VOYAGE TO COME?
WHY SHOULD WE BE SO HEEDLESS
THEREOF?

WHAT HEART DOES NOT BLEED FOR
YOUR ABSENCE, WHAT SOUL IS NOT
THE SERVANT OF YOUR ENCHANTING
CHARMS? FOR THOUGH YOU PAY HEED
TO NO ONE, THERE IS NO ONE WHO
DOES NOT PAY HEED TO YOU.

THE WORLD UPBRAIDS ME AS A
DEBAUCHEE, AND YET I AM NOT GUILTY.
YE HOLY MEN, LOOK UPON YOURSELVES,
AND LEARN WHAT YE TRULY ARE.
YOU CHARGE ME WITH VIOLATION OF
THE HOLY LAW, BUT I HAVE COMMITTED
NO OTHER SINS THAN RIOT, DRUNKEN-
NESS, AND ADULTERY.

MY HAPPINESS IS INCOMPLETE
WHILE I AM SOBER. WHEN I AM
DRUNK, BLANK IGNORANCE OVERGROWS
MY REASON. THERE IS A, STATE
BETWEEN CLEAR REASON AND INTOXI-
CATION. All, WITH WHAT JOY DO I
MAKE MYSELF THE SLAVE OF THAT
STATE, FOR THEREIN LIES LIFE.

THIS WORLD IS BUT A HAIR'S
BREADTH IN OUR WRETCHED LIFE.
THE SOUL BUT THE FAINT TRACE OF
OUR BLENDED TEARS AND BLOOD.
HELL IS BUT A SHADOW OF THE VAIN
TOILS WE TAKE UPON OURSELVES.
PARADISE IS BUT THE MOMENT'S REST
WE SOMETIMES TASTE HERE.

IF YOU GIVE YOURSELF UP TO YOUR
PASSION, TO YOUR INSATIABLE DESIRE,
I PROPHESY UNTO YOU THAT YOU
WILL GO HENCE AS POOR AS A BEGGAR.
SEE RATHER WHAT YOU ARE AND
WHENCE YOU COME, KNOW WHAT YOU
ARE AND LEARN WHITHER YOU GO.

WHO CAN BELIEVE THAT HE WHO
MADE THE CUP WOULD DREAM OF
DESTROYING IT? ALL THOSE FAIR
FACES, ALL THOSE LOVELY LIMBS, ALL
THOSE ENCHANTING BODIES, WHAT
LOVE HAS MADE THEM, AND WHAT
HATE DESTROYS THEM?

II IS BUT THY DRUNKENNESS WHICH
MAKES THEE DREAD DEATH AND FEAR
NOTHINGNESS; FOR IT IS CLEAR THAT
FROM THAT NOTHINGNESS THE TREE
OF IMMORTALITY SHALL SPRING. SINCE
MY SOU! HAS RESUSCITATED BY
THE BREATH OF JESUS, ETERNAL
DEATH HAS FLED AFAR FROM ME.

COPY THE TULIP, THAT FLAMES
WITH THE NEW YEAR; TAKE, LIKE HER,
THE CUP IN YOUR HAND, AND DRINK
AT ALL ADVANTAGE YOUR WINE WITH
A LIGHT HEART, IN COMPANY WITH A
YOUTHFUL BEAUTY WITH TULIP
CHEEKS. FOR YON BLUE WHEEL MAY
LIKE A WHIRLWIND AT ANY MOMENT
DASH YOU DOWN.

ONE DROP OF WINE IS WORTH ALL
THE KINGDOMS OF THE EARTH: THE
TILE WHICH COVERS THE JAR IS WORTH
A THOUSAND LIVES. THE CLOTH WITH
WHICH WE WIPE THE LIPS MOISTENED
WITH WINE IS TRULY MORE PRECIOUS
THAN A THOUSAND PIECES.

O, MY FRIENDS, WHEN I AM SPED,
APPOINT A MEETING AND WHEN YE
HAVE MET TOGETHER, BE YE GLAD
THEREOF, AND WHEN THE CUP-BEARER
HOLDS IN HER HAND A FLAGON OF
OLD WINE, THEN THINK UPON OLD
KHAYYAM AND DRINK TO HIS MEMORY.

THERE IS NO SHIELD TO SAVE YOU
FROM THE SPEAR CAST OF DESTINY.
GLORY, GOLD, SILVER, EACH AVAILS
NOT. THE MORE I PONDER ON THIS
WORLD AND ITS GEAR, THE MORE I AM
ASSURED THAT TO BE GOOD IS ALL;
THE REST AVAILS NOT.

I PITY THE HEART THAT IS NOT
PROMPTED TO ABSTINENCE, FOR IT IS
THE DAILY PREY OF PASSIONS. ONLY
THE HEART THAT IS FREE FROM CARE
CAN BE TRULY HAPPY; AUGHT IN
EXCESS OF THAT STATE IS MERE VEXA-
TION.

HOW LONG WILT THOU AFFLICT
THY SOUL WITH THE FAILURE OF THY
AMBITIONS? TROUBLE IS THE LOT OF
THOSE WHO ARE CAREFUL FOR THE
FUTURE. PASS THY LIFE IN JOY,
THEREFORE, AND GIVE NOT THYSELF
UP TO THE CARES OF THIS WORLD.
KNOW THAT WINE WILL IN NO WISE
INCREASE THE BITTERNESS OF THY
WOES.

HE WHO HAS THE WISDOM TO KEEP
HIS HEART CONTENTED HAS LOST NO
HOUR IN SORROW; HE HAS EITHER
DEVOTED HIMSELF TO SEEKING THE
GRACE OF GOD, OR HE HAS GAINED
TRANQUILLITY OF SOUL OVER THE
BRIMMING WINE-CUP.

TO DRINK WINE AND TO MAKE
MERRY, SUCH IS MY SCHEME OF LIFE.
TO PAY NO HEED TO HERETIC OR
DEVOTEE, SUCH IS MY CREED. I ASKED
THE BRIDE OF ALL THE HUMAN RACE,
"WHAT IS THY MARRIAGE PORTION?"
AND SHE ANSWERED, SMILING, "MY
MARRIAGE PORTION LIES IN THE JOY OF
THY HEART."

REJOICE, THEREFORE, FOR THE
TIME COMETH QUICKLY WHEN ALL
WHOM THOU BEHOLDEST NOW SHALL
BE HIDDEN IN THE EARTH. DRINK,
DRINK WINE, AND LET NOT THE CARES
OF THIS WORLD OVERWHELM YOU.
THOSE WHO COME AFTER THEE WILL
TOO SOON BECOME A PREY.

NO DAY EVER FINDS MY SOUL
FREE FROM AMAZEMENT, NO NIGHT
EVER FINDS MY BOSOM FREE FROM
THE TEARS THAT TRICKLE FROM MY
EYES. THE UNEASE THAT SWAYS ME
FORBIDS THE CUP OF MY HEAD FROM
BRIMMING WITH WINE. ALAS, HOW
SHALL AN INVERTED CUP BE EVER
FILLED?

WHEN GOD BUILT UP MY BODY OUT
OF CLAY, HE KNEW BEFOREHAND THE
FRUIT OF ALL MY DEEDS. IT IS NOT
IN DEFIANCE OF HIS WILL THAT I A
SINNER HAVE SINNED. WHY THEN
FOR ME DOES NETHER HELL AWAIT?

WHAT TIME MY BEING SEEMED TO
LEAN TO PRAYER AND FASTING, I
DEEMED FOR A MOMENT THAT I WAS
ABOUT TO TOUCH THE GOAL OF MY
DESIRES; BUT, ALAS, A BREATH HAS
SUFFICED TO DESTROY THE EFFICACY
OF MY ABLUTIONS, AND A HALF
MEASURE OF WINE HAS SET MY FASTS
ASIDE.

ALL MY BEING IS ATTRACTED BY
THE SIGHT OF THE FAIR FACES DYED
WITH THE HUE OF THE ROSE; MY
HEART DELIGHTS TO SAVOUR THE CUP
OF WINE. YEA, I WISH TO ENJOY THE
AWARD OF EACH OF MY MEMBERS
BEFORE THOSE MEMBERS FALL AGAIN
INTO THE ALL FROM WHICH THEY
SPRANG.

YESTERDAY I VISITED THE WORK-
SHOP OF A POTTER: THERE I BEHELD
TWO THOUSAND POTS, SOME SPEAKING,
AND SOME HOLDING THEIR PEACE.
EACH ONE SEEMED TO SAY TO ME,
"WHERE IS THEN THE POTTER, WHERE
THE BUYER OF POTS, WHERE THE
SELLER?"

I AM WORTHY NEITHER OF HEAVEN
NOR YET OF HELL. GOD KNOWS FROM
WHAT CLAY HE FASHIONED ME. I AM
AS HERETICAL AS A DERVISH, AS ILL-
FAVOURED AS A HARLOT, IHAVE
NEITHER FAITH NOR WEALTH, NOR
HOPE OF PARADISE.

YESTERDAY, PASSING DRUNKEN BE-
FORE THE TAVERN DOOR, I BEHELD
AN OLD MAN, FULL OF WINE, BEARING
A GOURD UPON HIS BACK. I SPAKE
TO HIM AND SAID, " OH, OLD MAN,
DOST THOU NOT FEAR GOD? " HE
ANSWERED ME, "THERE IS MERCY
WITH HIM - GO, THEREFORE, AND
DRINK."

WINE, WHICH IS VALUED BY THE
MAN OF UNDERSTANDING, IS FOR ME
THE WATER OF LIFE. IT IS BALM TO
MY HEART, AND AN ELIXIR WHICH RE-
NEWS THE STRENGTH OF MY SOUL.
HATH NOT GOD HIMSELF SAID: "THE
BENEFIT OF MANKIND IS FOUND IN
WINE.”

POOR MAN, THY PASSION, LIKE
UNTO A WATCH DOG, GIVES FORTH
HOLLOW SOUNDS. IT MASKS THE
WILES OF THE FOX, IT SEEKS THE
SLEEP OF THE HARE; IT BLENDS IN
ONE THE RAGE OF THE TIGER WITH
THE HUNGER OF THE WOLF.

WHO LED THEE HERE THIS NIGHT
TO ME, THUS DRENCHED WITH WINE?
WHO, LIFTING THE LIGHT VEIL THAT
COVERED THEE, HAS GUIDED THEE TO MY
THRESHOLD? WHO HAS SWEPT
THEE AWAY AGAIN MORE SWIFTLY
THAN THE WIND, TO FEED MORE
FIERCELY THE FLAME THAT BURNT
ALREADY BRIGHTLY IN THINE ABSENCE?

EVERY HEART IN WHICH HEAVEN
HATH SET THE LAMP OF LOVE,
WHETHER THAT HEART INCLINE TO
MOSQUE OR SYNAGOGUE, IF ITS NAME
BE WRITTEN IN THE BOOK OF LOVE,
IT IS FREED FROM THE FEAR OF HELL
AND THE HOPE OF PARADISE.

O YOU WHO OUT OF ALL THE
WORLD ART DEAREST TO MY HEART,
MORE PRECIOUS THAN THE SOUL WHICH
QUICKENS ME OR THAN THE EYES
THAT LIGHT MY PATH, THERE IS
NOTHING, OH MY BELOVED, DEARER
THAN LIFE, AND YET YOU, All, YOU ARE
A HUNDRED TIMES MORE DEAR.

HOW FAIR ARE THE GREEN FRINGES
OF THE LIVING STREAM. SURELY
THEY SPRANG ONCE FROM THE LIP OF
SOME CELESTIAL FAIR. TRAMPLE
THEM NOT WITH SCORN, FOR THEY
SPRING FROM THE DUST OF A TULIP-
TINTED FACE.

WE ARE ENDURING NAUGHT BUT
CARK AND CARE IN THIS WORLD WHICH
OFFERS US A FLEETING HARBOURAGE.
ALAS, NOT ONE OF ALL CREATION'S
RIDDLES HAS BEEN READ TO US, AND
WE DEPART HENCE WITH SORRY
HEARTS.

WHEN THE DAY ARRIVETH, WHEN,
WITH MY HEAD THROWN BACK, I FALL
AT THE FEET OF DEATH, WHEN THE
DESTROYING ANGEL SHALL HAVE MADE
ME LIKE UNTO A BIRD WITHOUT
FEATHERS; OH, THEN, SEE THOU THAT
OF MY DUST A WINE FLAGON IS
FORMED - FOR WHO CAN SAY BUT THAT
THE ODOUR OF THE WINE MAY RE-
INFORM MY CLAY?

MASTER, MAKE LAWFUL BUT ONE
ALONE OF ALL OUR WISHES. HOLD
YOUR PEACE AND GUIDE US ON THE
ROAD TO GOD. TRULY WE WALK
STRAIGHTLY, IT IS YOU WHO GO
ASTRAY. HEAL YOUR EYES AND LEAVE
US TO OUR PEACE.

SINCE THIS VAIN WORLD ABIDETH
NOT, I WILL OCCUPY MYSELF ONLY
WITH GUILE, I WILL GIVE UP MY
THOUGHTS TO PLEASURE AND LIMPID
WINE. THEY SAY UNTO ME, "HATH
NOT GOD FORBIDDEN IT?" - HE CAN
TRULY NEVER HAVE GIVEN ME THIS
COMMANDMENT, FOR IF HE HAD I
COULD NOT OBEY IT!

I WHEN I DRAW NEAR UNTO THE
GEAR OF THIS WORLD, I BEHOLD
ALL MANKIND SEIZING ON THE GOOD
THINGS IT CONTAINS WITHOUT ANY
MERIT OF THEIRS, WHILE TO ME, OH
ALL-POWERFUL GOD, NOTHING IS
VOUCHSAFED BUT THE SHIPWRECK
OF MY HOPES.

A MOUTHFUL OF WINE IS WORTH
MORE THAN THE KINGDOM OF KAI
KHOSROU; IT IS MORE DESIRABLE THAN
THE THRONE OF KAI KOBAD OR THE
EMPERY OF THOUS. THE SIGHS WITH
WHICH A LOVER DISTURBS THE DAWN
ARE PREFERABLE TO THE HOWLINGS
OF SANCTIMONIOUS HYPOCRITES.

IF I DO DRINK WINE IT IS NOT
FOR MINE OWN SELFISH GRATIFICA-
TION, IT IS NOT FOR RIOT'S SAKE OR
TO HOLD ALOOF FROM RELIGION AND
THE VIRTUES, NO, IT IS BUT THAT I
MAY ESCAPE FOR A MOMENT FROM
MYSELF. NO OTHER PURPOSE SPURS
ME TO DRINK AND BE DRUNKEN.

FOLK SAY THAT THERE IS A HELL.
THIS IS A VAIN ERROR, IN WHICH
NO TRUST SHOULD BE PLACED, FOR IF
THERE WERE A HELL FOR LOVERS
AND FOR BIBBERS OF WINE, WHY
HEAVEN WOULD BE, FROM TO-MORROW
MORN, AS EMPTY AS THE HOLLOW OF
MY HAND.

IF YOU HAVE DRUNK WINE FAITH-
FULLY ALL THE WEEK, DO NOT HOLD
YOUR HAND ON THE SABBATH; FOR,
BY OUR HOLY FAITH, THERE IS NO DIF-
FERENCE BETWEEN THAT DAY AND
ANOTHER. BE THOU THE WORSHIPPER
OF THE ALL-HIGH AND NOT A WOR-
SHIPPER OF THE DAYS OF THE WEEK.

DEAR MY GOD, YOU ARE MERCIFUL,
AND MERCY IS PITY. WHY THEN HAS
THE GREATEST SINNER BEEN SHUT
OFF FROM PARADISE? IF YOU ONLY
PARDON ME BECAUSE I HAVE OBEYED
YOU, WHAT MERCY IS THAT? IT
WOULD BE MERCIFUL TO FORGIVE ME,
SINNER THAT I AM.

PUT WISDOM BY, AND TAKE THE
CUP IN HAND. CEASE TO PERPLEX
YOURSELF ABOUT HEAVEN AND HELL.
SELL THY SILKEN TURBAN TO BUY
WINE WITH THE PRICE AND 'HAVE NO
FEAR. PLUCK OFF THAT COSTLY HEAD-
GEAR-CONTENT THY HEAD WITH A
WOOLLEN CAP.

THEY BID ME DRINK NO WINE
DURING THIS MONTH, FOR THIS MONTH
IS THE PROPHET'S, NOR YET IN THAT
MONTH FOR THAT IS THE MONTH OF
GOD. VERY WELL, LEAVE THOSE TWO
MONTHS TO GOD AND HIS PROPHET,
AND LET US DRINK DEEP IN THE
MONTH OF RAMAZAN, SINCE THAT
MONTH IS RESERVED TO US.

ALTHOUGH WINE IS FORBIDDEN,
CEASE NOT TO DRINK THEREOF.
DRINK, BY MORNING AND EVENTIDE,
DRINK TO THE SOUND OF SONG, AND
TO THE MELODY OF THE HARP. WHEN
THOU HAST PROCURED WINE GLOWING
LIKE THE RUBY, POUR ONE DROP ON
THE EARTH, AND DRINK THE REST.

NAME MY MERITS ONE BY ONE,
TAKE MY DEFECTS BY TENS AT A TIME.
PARDON EVERY SIN FOR THE LOVE OF
GOD. DO NOT FEED THE FIRE OF
HATE WITH THE BREATH OF PASSION,
PARDON US IN THE MEMORY OF THE
TOMB OF THE PROPHET OF GOD.

THE MULTITUDE OF CREEDS HAS
DIVIDED MANKIND INTO SEVENTY TWO
NATIONS. OF ALL THESE DOCTRINES
I HAVE CHOSEN THAT OF THY LOVE.
OF WHAT MEANING ARE THE WORDS:
IMPIETY, ISLAM, FAITH, SIN? THOU
ART MY SOLE DESIRE. AWAY FROM ME
ALL THESE VAIN PRETENCES.

TRULY THE WINE IN THE CUP IS A
SHINING LIFE, IN THE BODY OF THE
FLAGON IT IS A CLEAR SOUL. NO
CHURLISH FELLOW IS WORTHY OF MY
FELLOWSHIP. ONLY THE WINE CU
DESERVES TO ENTER THEREIN, FOR IT IS
AT THE SAME TIME A SOLID AND A
DIAPHANOUS BODY.

THIS AGED CARAVANSERAI WHICH
MEN CALL THE WORLD, THIS ALTER-
NATING HOME OF LIGHT AND NIGHT,
IS BUT THE FAG END OF A FEAST
OF A HUNDRED SUCH LORDS AS JAM-
SHID. IT IS BUT A TOMB SERVING AS
A PILLOW FOR THE SLEEP OF A HUN-
DRED SUCH KINGS AS BAHRAM.

IF THE ROSE IS NOT OUR PORTION
DO NOT THE THORNS REMAIN? IF
THE LIGHT DOES NOT REACH US, DOES
NOT THE FIRE REMAIN? IF WE HAV
NOT THE GARMENT, THE TEMPLE NOR
THE PRIEST, DO NOT THE MOSQUE,
THE DOME, THE MINARET, REMAIN?

WHERE ARE THE DANCERS? WHERE
IS THE WINE ? HASTEN THAT I MAY
DO HONOUR TO THE GOURD. HAPPY
IS THE HEART WHICH REMEMBERS
THE WINE IN THE MORNING. OH!
THERE EXIST THREE THINGS IN THIS
WORLD WHICH ARE DEAR TO ME - A
HEAD OVERTAKEN WITH WINE, A FAIR
MISTRESS, AND THE SOUND OF SING-
ING.

O WHEEL OF HEAVEN, HEEDLESS OF
BREAD AND SALT, YOU LEAVE ME
EVER NAKED AS A FISH. THE WHEE
OF THE WEAVER WEAVETH CLOTHES
FOR MEN, THEREFORE IT IS MORE
CHARITABLE THAN THOU, O WHEEL
OF HEAVEN.

O KHAYYAM, SAD IS HIS LOT WHO
LETS HIS HEART BE VEXED BY EARTHLY
TRIBULATIONS. DRINK THEN TO THE
TOUCH OF THE LUTE, DRINK WINE IN
A CRYSTAL CUP, DRINK BEFORE THE
CRYSTAL IS DASHED AGAINST A STONE.

TELL ME, FRIEND, WHAT HAVE I
ACQUIRED OF THE RICHES OF THIS
WORLD ? NOTHING. WHAT HAS FLEE-
TING TIME LEFT IN MY HANDS? -
NOTHING. I AM THE TORCH OF JOY,
BUT ONCE THE TORCH IS EXTINCT I
EXIST NO LONGER. I AM THE CUP
OF JAMSHID, BUT THE CUP ONCE
BROKEN I EXIST NO MORE.

BEHOLD THE DAWN APPEARS. SHE
HAS TORN ASIDE THE VEIL OF NIGHT.
RISE, THEN, AND EMPTY THE MORN-
ING'S CUP. WHY SO SAD ? DRINK,
HEART, DRINK, FOR THESE DAWNS
WILL FOLLOW AND FOLLOW WITH
THEIR FACES TURNED TO US, WHEN
OUR FACES SHALL BE TURNED TO THE
EARTH.

IF THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN DENIES
ME BREAD, AM I NOT PROMPT FOR
WAR? IF I HAVE NOT A NOBLE RE-
PUTATION, HAVE I NOT MY SHAME?
LO, THE CUP BRIMMED WITH A CRIM-
SON WINE. HE THAT, WILL NOT DRINK
DESERVES TO BE STONED.

SINCE LIFE FLIES, WHAT MATTERS IT
WHETHER IT BE SWEET OR BITTER?
SINCE OUR SOUL MUST ESCAPE
THROUGH OUR LIPS, WHAT MATTERS IT
WHETHER IT BE AT NAISHAPUR OR
BABYLON ? DRINK, THEN, FOR AFTER
THOU AND I ARE DUST, THE MOON
WILL FOR MANY DAYS PASS FROM
HER LAST TO HER FIRST QUARTER,
AND FROM HER FIRST TO HER LAST.

WHY, WHEN TO-DAY THE ROSE OF
FORTUNE BLOSSOMS, IS THE WINE-CUP
MISSING FROM YOUR HANDS? DRINK,
MY FRIEND, DRINK RED WINE, FOR
TIME IS A MERCILESS FELLOW, AND
IT IS HARD TO FIND AGAIN A DAY
LIKE THIS.

THE MONTH OF RAMAZAN HAS
COME, THE TIME OF THE WINE IS
OVER. YES, THE DAYS OF THAT DE-
LICIOUS DRINK AND OF OUR EASY
LIFE, HATH FALLEN FAR FROM US.
WOE'S ME FOR THE WINE THAT WAITS
UNDRUNKEN IN THE JAR, AND THE
EYES OF THE FAIR WOMEN THAT
BURN FOR US IN VAIN.

THE PALACE, WHERE BAHRAM LOVED
TO TROLL THE BOWL, IS NOW THE
RESTING-PLACE OF STAGS, THE LAIR
OF LIONS. SEE HOW THIS BAHRAM
WHO LOVED TO SNARE THE WILD ASS
WITH A RUNNING NOOSE IS SNARED
HIMSELF IN HIS TURN BY THE TOMB.

WE HAVE COME TOO LATE INTO
THIS WHIRL AND WELTER OF LIFE,
AND WE HAVE FALLEN HERE, BELOW
THE LEVEL OF MANKIND. AH! SINCE
LIFE DOES NOT, ALAS, MOVE ACCORD-
ING TO OUR WISHES, IT WERE BETTER
IT SHOULD CEASE; FOR ALREADY WE
HAVE REACHED SATIETY.

ALTHOUGH SIN HAS LEFT ME EVIL
OF FAVOUR, UNHAPPY, I AM NOT WITH-
OUT HOPE, IN WHICH I AM LIKE UNTO
THE IDOLATORS WHO PIN THEIR FAITH
TO THE GODS OF THEIR TEMPLES.
NONE THE LESS ON THE MORN WHEN
I MUST DIE OF THE LAST NIGHT'S RIOT
I WILL CLAMOUR FOR WINE AND CALL
FOR MY PARAMOUR, FOR WHAT CARE
I FOR HEAVEN OR HELL?

OH, MY DEAR COMPANIONS, POUR
ME WINE TO MAKE MY COUNTENANCE
CLEAR WITH THE COLOUR OF RUBIES.
WHEN I AM DEAD, WASH ME IN WINE,
AND MAKE MY LITTER AND MY COFFIN
OF THE WOOD OF THE VINE.

A DRAUGHT OF WINE IS BETTER
THAN THE EMPERY OF JAMSHID. THE
PERFUME OF THE CUP IS BETTER
THAN THE GIFTS OF HATIM TAI.
THE SIGH WHICH SLIPS AT DAWNING
FROM THE BREAST OF HIM WHO WENT
DRUNK TO BED, IS BETTER THAN THE
LAMENTATIONS OF MAJNUN.

THE CLOUDS SPREAD OVER THE FACE
OF THE HEAVENS, AND RAIN PATTERS
ON THE SWARD. HOW COULD IT BE
POSSIBLE TO LIVE FOR A SINGLE SECOND
WITHOUT CRIMSON WINE? THIS GREEN
BEFORE ME DELIGHTS MY EYE, BUT
THE GRASS WHICH SHALL SPRING
FROM MY DUST WHOSE EYE WILL DE-
LIGHTIN?

OH! THOUGHTLESS MAN, BE NOT
DECEIVED BY THIS WORLD, SINCE
THOU KNOWEST ITS PURSUITS! THROW
NOT THY PRECIOUS LIFE TO THE
WIND. HASTEN TO SEEK THY FRIEND,
AND DELAY NOT TO DRINK WINE.

FOR THE LOVE OF THEE WHICH
POSSESSES MY HEART I AM READY
TO ACCEPT ALL, MANNER OF REPROOF,
AND IF I BREAK MY VOW, I WILL
BEAR THE BLAME THEREOF. OH, IF
UNTIL THE LAST DAY I SHOULD EN-
DURE THE PAIN THOU CAUSEST ME,
THE TIME WOULD SEEM BUT TOO
SHORT.

O HEART, MY HEART, SINCE THE
VERY BASIS OF ALL THIS WORLD'S
GEAR IS BUT A FABLE, WHY DO YOU
ADVENTURE IN SUCH AN INFINITE
ABYSS OF SORROWS? TRUST THYSELF
TO FATE, UPHOLD THE EVIL, FOR WHAT
THE PENCIL HAS TRACED WILL NOT
BE EFFACED FOR YOU.

OF ALL WHO HAVE SET OUT UPON
THE LONG JOURNEY, WHO HAS COME
BACK, THAT I MAY ASK HIM TIDINGS?
MY FRIENDS, TAKE HEED TO LET
NAUGHT GO BY IN THE HOPE OF HOPES
FOR, BE SURE, YOU WILL NOT COME
BACK AGAIN.

SINCE EVERY WANING NIGHT,
EVERY WANING DAY, CUTS OFF A
CANTLE OF YOURLIFE, DO NOT ALLOW
THESE NIGHTS AND DAYS TO HEAP
YOU THICK WITH DUST. DAFF THEM
GAILY BY, FOR, ALAS, WHAT A WORLD
OF TIME YOU WILL BE GONE HENCE
WHILE NIGHTS AND DAYS STILL WAX
AND WANE.

THAT HEAVENLY WHEEL, WHICH
TELLS ITS TALE TO NO MAN, HAS
MERCILESSLY SLAIN A THOUSAND
MONARCHS AND A THOUSAND FAVOR-
ITES; DRINK YOUR WINE, THEN, FOR
IT GIVES BACK LIFE TO NONE. ALAS,
NO ONE OF THOSE THAT QUIT THIS
WORLD WILL E'ER COME BACK TO IT.

O THOU, WHO LORDEST OVER THE
LORDS OF THE EARTH, DOST THOU
KNOW THE DAYS WHEN, WINE DE-
LIGHTETH THE HEART? THEY ARE
IN GOOD SOOTH THE MONDAY, THE
TUESDAY, THE WEDNESDAY, THE
THURSDAY, THE FRIDAY, THE SATUR
AY, AND THE SUNDAY TO BOOT.

HEEDLESS MAN, THY FLESHLY BODY
IS NAUGHT, YON VAULT BUILT UP OF
SEVEN SHINING HEAVENS IS NAUGHT.
GIVE THYSELF UP TO ALL DELIGHT IN
THIS KINGDOM OF MISRULE, FOR OUR
LIFE IS ONLY BOUND TO IT FOR A
MOMENT, AND THAT MOMENT ITSELF
IS NOTHING.

THIS CARAVAN OF LIFE PASSETH IN
A STRANGE MANNER - BEWARE, OH,
FRIEND, FOR IT IS THE TIME OF THY
PLEASURE WHICH FLEETH FROM THEE
THUS. TROUBLE NOT THYSELF, THERE-
FORE, FOR THE GRIEF WHICH
AWAITETH OUR FRIENDS ON THE
MORROW, FOR BEHOLD HOW THE
NIGHT PASSETH AWAY!

ONCE, SEEING AN OLD MAN STAGGER
FROM THE WINE SHOP, WITH HIS
PRAYER MAT ON HIS SHOULDERS, AND
A FLAGON IN HIS HAND, I SAID TO
HIM, "WHAT MEANS THIS, OH, MY MAS-
TER?" AND HE MADE ANSWER TO ME,
" DRINK WINE, MY BROTHER, FOR THIS
WORLD IS BUT A BREATH OF WIND."

A LOVE-LORN NIGHTINGALE, STRAY-
ING INTO A GARDEN, AND BEHOLDING
THE ROSES SMILING, AND THE CUP
FILLED WITH WINE, FLEW TO MY EAR
AND SANG, “BE ADVISED FRIEND,
THERE IS NO RECALLING THE VAN-
ISHED LIFE.”

HE WHO HAS LAID THE FOUNDA-
TIONS OF THE EARTH, OF THE WHEEL
OF THE HEAVENS, WHAT WOUNDS HAS
HE NOT HOLLOWED OUT IN THE UN-
HAPPY HEART OF MAN! WHAT RUBY-
COLOURED LIPS HAS HE NOT BURIED IN
THIS LITTLE GLOBE OF EARTH? WHAT
MUSK SCENTED TRESSES HAS HE NOT
HIDDEN IN THE BOSOM OF THE DUST?

KHAYYAM, YOUR BODY IS LIKE UNTO
A TENT, THE SOUL THEREOF IS THE
SULTAN, AND HIS LAST HOME IS THE
NOTHINGNESS. WHEN THE SULTAN
QUITS HIS PAVILION, THE FATAL FER-
RASH STRIKES IT, TO SET IT UP AT
ANOTHER STAGE.

EACH DROP OF WINE WHICH THE
CUP-BEARER POURS INTO THE CUP
WILL QUENCH THE FIRE OF GRIEF IN
THY BURNING EYES. IS IT NOT SAID,
O GREAT GOD, THAT WINE IS AN
ELIXIR WHICH DRIVES AWAY ALL THE
SORROWS THAT WEIGH DOWN THE
HEART?

WHEN THE VIOLET HAS DYED HER
VEIL, WHEN THE ZEPHYR HAS MADE
THE ROSES EXPAND THEIR LEAVES,
THEN HE WHO IS WISE WILL DRINK
WINE WITH A COMPANION WHOSE BODY
IS WHITE AS SILVER, AND TURN
DOWN THE CUP UPON THE EARTH.

THE DEVOUT MAN CAN NEVER VALUE
THE DIVINE MERCY AS WE DO.A
STRANGER CAN NEVER UNDERSTAND
THEE LIKE THINE OWN FAMILIAR
FRIEND. THOU SAYEST, "IF THOU
SINNEST, I WILL SEND THEE TO
HELL."GO, TELL THAT TO ONE WHO
KNOWETH THEE NOT.

O! MY HEART, ACT AS IF ALL THE
WEALTH OF THIS WORLD WERE THINE
- THINK THAT THIS HOUSE IS FUR-
NISHED WITH ALL THINGS, THAT IT IS
ADORNED SUMPTUOUSLY; AND PASS THY
LIFE JOYFULLY IN THIS DISTRACTED
SPHERE. SAY TO THYSELF THAT THOU
RESTEST HERE FOR BUT A FEW DAYS,
AND WILT THEN ARISE AND DEPART.

THE DAYS OF OUR ABIDING ON THIS
EARTH ARE WORTHLESS WITHOUT
WINE AND THE CUP-BEARER, WORTH-
LESS WITHOUT THE SOFT MELODIES
OF IRAM'S LUTE. I HAVE STUDIED
CLOSELY THE COURSE OF EARTHLY
THINGS, AND I KNOW THAT JOY AND
PLEASURE ALONE ARE DEAR, ALL ELSE
IS WORTHLESS.

DRAWN ALONG BY THE FLYING FEET
OF TIME, WHICH ONLY BESTOWS ITS
GIFTS ON THE LEAST WORTHY, MY LIFE
IS OVERWHELMED WITH PAIN AND
TRAVAIL. IN THE GARDEN OF MAN-
KIND MY HEART IS CLOSED UP LIKE
THE BUD OF A ROSE, AND LIKE A
TULIP IT IS DRENCHED WITH BLOOD.

KHAYYAM, WHO SEWED THE TENTS
OF LEARNING, HAS FALLEN SUDDENLY
INTO THE CRATER OF DESPAIR, AND
THERE LIES CALCINED. THE KNIFE
OF FATE HAS CUT HIS BEING'S THREAD,
AND THE IMPATIENT WORLD HAS SOLD
HIM FOR A SONG.

IN SPRING TIME I LOVE TO SIT IN THE
MEADOW WITH A PARAMOUR PER-
FECT AS A HOURI AND A GOODLY
JAR OF WINE, AND THOUGH I MAY BE
BLAMED FOR THIS, YET HOLD ME
LOWER THAN A DOG IF EVER I DREAM,
OF PARADISE.

SWEET IS IT TO DRINK RED WINE
IN A FAIR CUP. SWEET IT IS TO HEAR
THE WEDDED MELODIES OF LUTES
AND HARPS. THE FANATIC WHO RECKS
NOT OF THE JOYS OF A CUP OF WINE
IS PLEASING ONLY WHEN HE IS A
THOUSAND MILES AWAY FROM US.

GET THYSELF DANCING GIRLS, WINE,
AND A MISTRESS AS FAIR AS THE
HOURIS, IF INDEED THERE BE HOURIS,
OR SEEK OUT A LIMPID STREAM GUSH-
ING BY A MEADOW, IF ANY MEADOW
BE, AND ASK FOR NO BETTER LOT.
VEX YOURSELF NO MORE WITH AN
EXTINGUISHED HELL, FOR TRULY
THERE IS NO OTHER PARADISE THAN
THIS, IF ANY PARADISE THERE BE.

BE ON YOUR GUARD, MY FRIEND,
FOR YOU WILL BE SUNDERED FROM
YOUR SOUL, YOU WILL PASS BEHIND
THE CURTAIN OF THE SECRETS OF
HEAVEN. DRINK WINE, FOR YOU KNOW
NOT WHENCE YOU COME. BE MERRY,
FOR YOU KNOW NOT WHERE YOU GO.

ALTHOUGH THE CALL OF DUTY HAS
LED MY FEET TO THE MOSQUE, IT IS
NOT TRULY TO LIFT UP MY VOICE
IN PRAYER. I STOLE ONE DAY FROM
THERE A CARPET, AND SINCE THIS
IS WORN OUT, I HAVE COME HERE
AGAIN AND AGAIN.

LET US NO LONGER ALLOW THE
CARES OF THIS WORLD TO OPPRESS
OUR SOULS. LET US GIVE OURSELVES
UP ENTIRELY TO DRINKING WINE.
PURE LIMPID AND ROSE-COLOURED.
WINE, OH, MY FRIEND, IS THE BLOOD
OF THE WORLD, AND THE WORLD IS
OUR MURDERER; HOW CAN WE THEN
REFRAIN FROM DRINKING THE BLOOD
OF HIM WHO HAS SPILT OURS?

THERE CAME A VOICE AT DAWNING
FROM THE WINE-SHOP, CRYING, " ARISE,
YE HAUNTERS OF THE TAVERN-DIVAN,
ARISE, AND FILL THE CANNIKIN BEFORE
FATE COMES TO FILL THE CUP OF
YOUR BEING."

O, MY SOUL! DRINK THIS DIVINE
NECTAR WHICH HATH NOT BEEN
STIRRED: DRINK TO THE MEMORY O
THE ENCHANTING IDOLS WHO ENSLAVE
THE HEART OF MAN. WINE, IS THE
BLOOD OF THE GRAPE, MY BELOVED,
AND THE VINE SAYS TO THEE, "DRINK
OF IT, SINCE I HAVE PLACED IT UNDER
THY CONTROL."

IN THE SEASON OF FLOWERS, DRINK
WINE THE COLOUR OF ROSES, DRINK
TO THE PLAINTIVE NOTES OF THE
FLUTE, AND THE MELODIOUS SOUND
OF THE HARP. I FOR MY PART DRINK
THEREOF AND REJOICE, AND IT IS
CONGENIAL TO ME. IF THOU WILT
NOT DRINK, WHAT IS THAT TO ME?
GO, THEN, AND EAT STONES.

WHEN THE MEMORY OF MY OFFENCES
COMETH TO MY MIND, THE FIRE,
WHICH IN FORMER DAYS BURNT IN
MY HEART NOW COVERS MY FACE
WITH SHAME. HOWEVER, IT IS WELL
KNOWN THAT A GENEROUS MASTER
WILL PARDON THE SLAVE WHO RE-
PENTETH.

OH, MY SOUL, THOU AND I TO-
GETHER ARE LIKE UNTO A COMPASS.
WE FORM BUT ONE BODY, HAVING
TWO POINTS. TRULY, WE MOVE BUT
FROM THE ONE POINT, AND MAKE THE
ROUND OF THE CIRCLE; BUT THE DAY
COMETH, AND IS NOT FAR OFF, WHEN
THE TWO POINTS MUST REUNITE.

AT THE FIRST, LIFE WAS GIVEN
UNTO ME WITHOUT MY CONSENT,
THEREFORE MY OWN EXISTENCE
FILLED ME WITH ASTONISHMENT.
FINALLY, WITH REGRET WE LAPSE
OUT OF THIS WORLD, UNDERSTANDING
NEITHER THE PURPOSE OF OUR COM
ING, OUR STAY, NOR OUR DEPARTURE.

I AM A REBELLIOUS SLAVE: WHERE
IS THY WILL? MY HEART IS DEFILED
WITH SINS: WHERE IS THY LIGHT?
WHERE IS THY CONTROL? IF THOU
WILT ONLY BESTOW PARADISE ON
THOSE WHO OBEY THY LAWS IT IS A
DEBT WHICH THOU PAYEST, AND
WHERE THEN IS THY MERCY?

BELIEVE NOT THAT I FEAR THE
WORLD, OR THAT THE THOUGHT OF
DEATH AND THE DEPARTURE OF MY
SOUL FILLS ME WITH TERROR. SINCE
DEATH IS A TRUTH, WHAT HAVE I TO
FEAR FROM IT? ALL THAT I FEAR IS,
THAT MY LIFE HAS NOT BEEN WELL
SPENT.

I WOULD SELL THE DIADEM OF THE
KHAN, THE CROWN OF THE KING, TO
PURCHASE THE SONG OF THE FLUTE
GIRL. LET US SELL THE TURBAN, YEA,
AND THE GARMENT OF SILK, FOR A
CUP OF WINE; LET US SELL THE
CHAPLET WHICH ALONE CONTAINS A
MULTITUDE OF HYPOCRISY.

WHEN THE TREE OF MY EXISTENCE
IS UPROOTED, WHEN MY MEMBERS
ARE SCATTERED, LET THEM MAKE
PITCHERS OF MY DUST, AND LET
THEM FILL THE PITCHERS WITH WINE;
THUS SHALL THE DUST BE QUICKENED
AGAIN.

OH THOU BEFORE WHOSE EYES SIN
IS OF NO MOMENT, SAY TO HIM WHO
HAS THE WISDOM TO ANNOUNCE
THIS GREAT TRUTH, THAT TO THE
MIND OF THE PHILOSOPHER IT IS THE
CROWN OF FOLLY TO MAKE THE
DIVINE PRESCIENCE THE SUPPORT OF
SIN.

O MY FRIEND, COME HITHER, LET
US FORGET TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW,
AND STEAL THIS ONE SHORT HOUR OF
LIFE. WHEN TO-MORROW WE SHALL
HAVE ABANDONED THIS OLD DWELLING-
PLACE, WE SHALL BECOME THE CON-
TEMPORARIES OF ALL THOSE WHO
DEPARTED HENCE FOR THE LAST SEVEN
THOUSAND YEARS.

THIS WORLD HAS GAINED NOTHING
BY MY SOJOURN HERE BELOW, AND
ITS GLORY AND GREATNESS WILL NOT
BE LESSENED BY MY DEPARTURE. I
HAVE NEVER HEARD WITH MY EARS,
AND HAVE NEVER BEEN TOLD BY ANY-
ONE THE REASON OF MY COMING OR
GOING.

ALL HIDDEN THINGS ARE KNOWN
TO THE ETERNAL WISDOM, WHO NUM-
BERETH EVERY HAIR OF OUR HEAD,
AND HATH FASHIONED ALL OUR MEM-
BERS. BY HYPOCRISY THOU CANST
DECEIVE MANKIND, BUT HOW WILT
THOU DECEIVE THE ALL-KNOWING?

WINE GIVETH WINGS TO THE
HEAVY HEARTED. WINE IS A MOLE
ON THE CHEEK OF WISDOM. WE
HAVE NOT DRUNK OF IT DURING THE
RAMAZAN WHICH HAS FLED, BUT BE-
HOLD NOW THE NIGHT OF THE MONTH
OF THE DRINKING OF WINE HAS
ARRIVED.

SEE THAT THOU ART NEVER LEFT
WITHOUT WINE, FOR IT IS WINE WHICH
FILLS THE HEART OF MAN WITH
WISDOM AND WITH KNOWLEDGE OF
RELIGION. IF THE DEVIL HAD TASTED
ONE DROP THEAOF, HE WOULD HAVE
ADORED ADAM, AND WOULD HAVE
BOWED HIMSELF DOWN BEFORE HIM
TWO THOUSAND TIMES.

ARISE, AND STRIKE THE EARTH WITH
THY FEET, WHILE WE ACCOMPANY THEE
WITH OUR HANDS. LET US DRINK IN
THE PRESENCE OF BEAUTIFUL WOMEN
WITH LANGUOROUS NARCISSUS EYES.
GLADNESS BEGINNETH NOT BUT WITH
THE TWENTIETH CUP, AND IT IS WON-
DERFULLY ROUNDED WHEN ONE HAS
COME TO THE SIXTIETH.

NEVER DESPAIR, FOR ALL THY SINS,
OF THE DIVINE MERCY OF THE MER-
CIFUL MASTER, FOR IF YOU WERE TO
DIE TO-DAY, DEAD DRUNK, TO-MORROW
HE WOULD PARDON YOUR CORRUPTED
BONES.

TAKE THE CUP IN YOUR HAND, AND
LIFT UP YOUR VOICE IN THE CHOIR
OF THE NIGHTINGALES, FOR IF IT
WERE SEEMLY TO DRINK THE BLOOD
OF THE VINE WITH NO SWEET CON-
CORD OF HARMONIOUS SOUND, THE
WINE ITSELF WOULD MAKE NO SOUND
IN GURGLING FROM THE FLAGON.

I HAVE CLOSED MY HEART AGAINST
COVETOUSNESS, AND I AM THUS
RELEASED FROM MY DEBT BOTH TO
THOSE WHO ARE MEN, AND THOSE
WHO DESERVE NOT THAT NAME, BUT
SINCE THERE EXISTETH ONLY ONE
FRIEND WHO WILL HOLD ME BY THE
HAND, I AM WHAT I AM; TO HIM ALONE
DO I RENDER ACCOUNT.

O WHEEL OF HEAVEN, THY REVOLV-
ING COURSE DISPLEASES ME. SET ME
FREE, THEREFORE, FOR I AM UNWORTHY
OF THY YOKE. IF THY PURPOSE AL-
WAYS HOLDS TO GRANT THY FAVOURS
ONLY TO THE FOOLS IN THEIR FOLLY,
I AM NOT OVER WISE NOR OVER LEARNED.

GOD HATH PROMISED US WINE IN
PARADISE. THEREFORE, HOW CAN IT
BE DENIED TO US IN THIS WORLD?
AN ARAB, A PREY TO DRUNKENNESS,
ONE DAY SEVERED WITH HIS SWORD
THE LEGS OF A CERTAIN CAMEL.
IT IS FOR THIS CAUSE, THAT THE
PROPHET HAS DECLARED WINE FOR-
BIDDEN.

SINCE, OF ALL THY PAST DELIGHTS,
THERE REMAINETH TO THEE ONLY
THE MEMORY, SINCE THE ONLY FAITH-
FUL FRIEND REMAINING TO THEE IS
THE WINE-CUP, SINCE IN TRUTH IT IS
THY ONLY POSSESSION, REJOICE THERE-
FORE IN IT, AND LET NOT THE CUP
ESCAPE FROM THY HANDS.

IN THIS MAD WORLD OF MEDLEY,
MAKE HASTE TO PICK SOME FLOWERS.
SIT IN THE HIGH PLACES OF LAUGHTER,
AND PRESS THE CUP TO YOUR LIPS.
HEAVEN IS HEEDLESS ALIKE OF SIN
OR SERVICE, SO MAKE MERRY AFTER
YOUR HEART’S DESIRE.

MY LOVE HAS TOUCHED THE TOP-
MOST OF ITS FLAME. THE BEAUTY OF
HER WHO HOLDS MY HEART IN THRALL
IS BEYOND PRAISE. MY HEART SPEAKS,
BUT MY TONGUE, MADE MUTE, REFUSES
UTTERANCE TO MY THOUGHTS. HIGH
HEAVEN, WAS AUGHT EVER SEEN SO
STRANGE! I AM RACKED WITH THIRST,
AND YET A FRESH COOL STREAM FLOWS
BEFORE ME.

MAY THE TAVERN ALWAYS BE
THRONGED WITH REVELLERS, MAY
FIRE CONSUME THE SKIRTS OF THE
SAINTLY, MAY THEIR ROBES FALL IN
RAGS, MAY THEIR BLUE GOWNS BE
TRAMPLED UNDER THE TOPER'S FEET.

I AM MORE INDUSTRIOUS THAN
THEE, THOU SAGE OF THE TOWN.
THOUGH I BE DRUNK, I AM BETTER,
THAN THEE, FOR THOU DRINKEST
HUMAN BLOOD, AND I THE BLOOD OF
THE VINE. BE JUST AND PRONOUNCE
WHICH OF US TWO IS THE MOST SAN-
GUINARY.

ALAS! HOW LONG THE TIME WILL
BE WHEN WE ARE NO LONGER IN
THIS WORLD, AND THE WORLD WILL
STILL EXIST. THERE WILL REMAIN
OF US NEITHER FAME, NOR TRACE.
THE WORLD WAS NOT IMPERFECT
BEFORE WE CAME INTO IT - IT WILL
BE IN NO WISE CHANGED WHEN WE
ARE DEPARTED HENCE.

I HOW LONG WILL YOU REMAIN THE
DUPE OF THIS WORLD'S DELICATE DYES
AND ODOURS? WFIFN WILL YOU CEASE
FROM VEXING ABOUT THE GOOD AND
THE BAD? WERE YOU THE FOUNTAIN
.OF YOUTH, WERE YOU THE VERY
WATER OF LIFE ITSELF, THAT SHOULD
NOT SAVE YOU FROM SINKING INTO
THE BOSOM OF THE EARTH.

OUR BEING MUST BE EFFACED FROM
THE BOOK OF LIFE, WE MUST EXPIRE
IN THE ARMS OF DEATH. OH, EN-
CHANTING CUP-BEARER, BRING ME THE
LIQUOR JOYFULLY, SINCE I MUST BE-
COME EARTH.

ON THE DAY WHEN THE JUICE OF
THE GRAPE DOES NOT TURN MY
BRAIN, THIS WORLD HAS NOTHING TO
GIVE BUT THAT WHICH IS POISON TO
ME. YES, THE MISERY OF THIS
WRETCHED WORLD IS A POISON - WINE
IS ITS ONLY ANTIDOTE. TO ESCAPE
THEN FROM THE TERROR OF THE
POISON, I WILL TAKE THE ANTIDOTE.

BEHOLD THE LITTLE HANDFUL OF
FOOLS, WHO HOLD THE WORLD IN
THEIR HANDS, AND WHO IN THEIR
SIMPLE FOLLY THINK THEMSELVES THE
WISEST OF THE WISE. VEX NOT YOUR-
SELF, FOR IN THEIR SNUG CONTENT
THEY CALL ALL MEN HERETICS WHO
ARE NOT OF A KINDRED FOLLY.

ABANDON THYSELF TO ENJOYMENT,
FOR SORROW IS WITHOUT END. THE
STARS WILL ASSEMBLE IN THE HEAVENS
IN THEIR FORMER COURSES, AND OF
THE BRICKS WHICH THEY MAKE FROM
THY BODY WILL THEY BUILD PALACES
FOR OTHERS.

HOW LONG WILL THE UNRIGHTEOUS
DEEDS OF OTHERS COVER OUR FACE
WITH SHAME? HOW LONG SHALL WE
BE CONSUMED IN THE FURNACE OF
THIS VAIN WORLD ? ARISE - AND LIKE
A MAN CAST ASIDE THIS WORLD'S
SADNESS. TO-DAY AT LEAST IS A DAY
OF REJOICING - COME, LET US DRINK
ROSE COLOURED WINE.

I WAGE A WARFARE WITHOUT END
AGAINST MY PASSIONS, BUT WHAT CAN
I DO? THE REMEMBRANCE OF MY
INIQUITIES IS LIKE A SORE BURDEN,
BUT WHAT CAN I DO? I BELIEVE
TRULY, THAT IN THY MERCY THOU
WILT BLOT OUT MY SINS. BUT THE
KNOWLEDGE THAT MY DISHONOUR IS NOT
HID FROM THEE REMAINETH -
WHAT CAN I DO?

THOSE WHO HAVE TROD THE WORLD
BENEATH THEIR FEET, WHO HAVE
WANDERED OVER THE WORLD IN THE
PURSUIT OF GAIN, HAVE NEVER
LEARNED THE LIVING TRUTH OF LIFE.

THE DAY WHEN THE CELESTIAL
STEED OF GOLDEN STARS WAS SADDLED,
WHEN THE PROUD PLANETS AND THE
CONSTELLATIONS WERE CREATED - FROM
THAT SAME DAY THE DIVAN OF FATE
DECREED OUR LOT. HOW THEN CAN
WE BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE SINCE
OURS IS THE POSITION THAT HAS
BEEN MADE FOR US?

MY SOUL IS OFTEN MADE SORROWFUL
BY THE MOVEMENT OF THE WHEEL OF
THE SKIES. I STRUGGLE AGAINST MY
VILE NATURE. OH! THAT I HAD WIS-
DOM ENOUGH TO HIDE MYSELF FOR-
EVER FROM THIS WORLD, OR UNDER-
STANDING TO LIVE THEREIN, WITHOUT
ALLOWING IT TO POSSESS MY HEART!

WOE'S ME FOR THE BEST THAT
SLIPS BETWEEN OUR FINGERS; WOE'S
ME FOR ALL THE HEARTS THAT DEATH
HAS DROWNED IN BLOOD; WOE'S ME
THAT NONE RETURN FROM THE
HITHER WORLD WITH TALES OF THOSE
WHO HAVE DEPARTED THENCE.

THAT WHICH RENEWS OUR YOUTH
IS WINE: IT IS THE LIVING JUICE
OF THE VINE, AND THE COMPANY OF
THE FAIR. AND SINCE IT WAS BY
WATER, THAT THIS WORLD OF NO-
THINGNESS WAS BROUGHT TO DES-
TRUCTION, ALL THAT IS LEFT FOR US
IS TO DESTROY OURSELVES WITH WINE,
AND TO PASS OUR LIFE IN DELICATE
DRUNKENNESS.

ALAS, THE SEASON OF MY YOUTH
DECAYS, THE KINDLY SPRING OF OUR
DELIGHTS GOES BY, AND THAT DE-
LIGHTFUL BIRD, WHOSE NAME IS
YOUTH, HAS FLOWN. IT CAME, I
KNOW NOT WHENCE, AND GOES, I
KNOW NOT WHITHER.

WHEN I AM DEAD, SMOOTH MY
TOMB DOWN TO THE LEVEL OF THE
EARTH WITHOUT DELAY, AND MAKE
ME IN THIS WISE AN EXAMPLE TO
MANKIND. THEN KNEAD THE ASHES
OF MY BODY WITH WINE, AND MAKE
THEREOF THE COVER OF A JAR.

BRING HITHER THE CAPTAIN RUBY
IN A CUP OF CRYSTAL, BRING HITHER
THE DESIRED AND BELOVED OF ALL
GENEROUS MEN. SINCE THOU KNOW-
EST THAT ALL THE DWELLERS ON
THE EARTH ARE BUT DUST, AND THAT
WHEN THE WIND PASSETH OVER THEM
THEY ARE NO MORE, BRING HITHER
THE WINE.

OH THOU, WHOM ALL CREATION
SEEKETH IN MADNESS AND DESPAIR,
THE DERVISH AND THE RICH MAN
ALIKE FIND NO WAY TO REACH UNTO
THEE. THY NAME IS IN THE MOUTH
OF ALL MEN, BUT ALL ARE DEAF.
THOU ART PRESENT TO ALL EYES,
BUT ALL ARE BLIND.

HOW LONG WILL YOU UTTER THESE
VAIN COMPLAININGS AGAINST THE
ORDER OF THE EARTH? ARISE, AND
MAKE EVERY MOMENT INSTINCT WITH
JOY. WHILE THE WORLD OFFERS SO
MANY SMILING MEADOWS, DRINK YOUR
CRIMSON WINE FROM A BRIMMING CUP.

WHEN YOU FIND YOURSELF IN THE
FELLOWSHIP OF SOME CYPRESS-SLEN-
DER GIRL, MORE TENDER-TINTED THAN
THE EARLY ROSE, DO NOT HOLD ALOOF
FROM THE FLOWERS OF THE MEADOW,
DO NOT LET THE CUP FALL FROM
YOUR HAND BEFORE THE ANGEL OF
DEATH, LIKE UNTO THE WILD WIND
THAT SCATTERS ABROAD THE ROSE-
LEAVES, TEARS ASUNDER THE VEIL OF
THY EXISTENCE.

THAT HIGH AND OMINOUS WHEEL
WHOSE TRADE IT IS TO PLAY THE
TYRANT HAS NEVER SOLVED FOR ANY-
ONE THE KNOT OF ANY PERPLEXITY.
WHERE'ER IT SEES A BLEEDING HEART
IT SPEEDS TO GRIND UPON THE OPEN
WOUND.

THIS VAULT OF HEAVEN UNDER
WHICH WE MOVE IN A VAIN SHADOW,
MAY BE LIKENED UNTO A LANTERN;
THE SUN IS THE FOCUS, AND WE, LIKE
THE FIGURES, LIVE THERE IN AMAZE-
MENT.

THIS MOCKING WORLD HOLDS,NAUGHT
BUT SHADOWS AND PHANTASMS. HE IS
INDEED UNLUCKY WHO LOSES HIS WAY
IN THE CROWD THEREOF. REST,
FRIEND, DRINK THY WINE, OPEN THY
HEART TO MIRTH, AND FREE YOUR-
SELF THUS FROM ALL THESE SHADOWS
AND PHANTASMS.

DO NOT SUFFER VAIN THOUGHTS TO
ENTER THE GATE OF YOUR MIND.
DRINK WHILE THE YEARS DRIVE BY,
LET THE CUP BE ALWAYS FULL TO
THE LIPS. PAY YOUR COURT TO THE
DAUGHTER OF THE VINE, AND BE
GLAD, FOR IT IS BETTER TO ENJOY
THE FORBIDDEN DAUGHTER THAN THE
PERMITTED MOTHER.

NOT ONCE HAS THE WHEEL OF THE
HEAVENS BEEN FAVOURABLE TO ME.
NEVER FOR ONE MOMENT HAVE I LIS-
TENED TO A SWEET VOICE, NEVER FOR
ONE DAY HAVE I TASTED A FLEETING
HAPPINESS, BUT THEREFOR I HAVE BEEN
OVERWHELMED IN AN ABYSS OF WOE.

OH, WHAT A MISFORTUNE THAT IT
IS THE IGNORANT OR INEXPE-
RIENCED WHO POSSESS THE BREAD
WELL BAKED - THE INCOMPLETE, WHO
POSSESS COMPLETE RICHES ! THE EYES
OF THE BEAUTIFUL GIRLS ARE THE
JOY OF THE HEART, AND IT IS MERE
KNAVES AND SLAVES WHO ARE THEIR
OWNERS.

O, KHAYYAM, ALTHOUGH INDEED
THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN, IN SETTING
ITS TENT, HAS CLOSED THE DOOR TO
DISCUSSIONS, NEVERTHELESS THE ETER-
NAL CUP-BEARER HAS FORMED IN THE
CUP OF CREATION A THOUSAND OTHER
KHAYYAMS, LIKE UNTO THEE.

THE DAY WHEN I SHALL NO LONGER
BE KNOWN TO MYSELF, AND WHEN
THEY SPEAK OF ME AS A TALE THAT
IS TOLD: THEN MY HEART'S DESIRE
IS THAT FROM MY ASHES MAY
BE FORMED A WINE JAR FOR THE
TAVERN.

THOU HAST FASHIONED ME OF
WATER AND CLAY; HOW THEN CAN I
ALTER IT? WHETHER I BE MADE OF
WOOL OR OF SILK, IT IS THOU WHO
HAST WOVEN; HOW THEN CAN I ALTER
IT? THOU HAST PREDESTINED MY
GOOD AND EVIL DEEDS - HOW CAN I
ALTER IT?

THOSE MIGHTY AND POMPOUS LORDS,
SO ORGULOUS IN THEIR ESTATES, ARE
SO DEVOURED BY CARE AND SORROW
THAT LIFE IS BECOME A BITTER BUR-
THEN. YET, MARVELLOUS TO NOTE,
THEY WILL NOT HAIL WITH THE
NAME OF MAN THOSE WHO ARE NOT,
AS THEY ARE, THE SLAVES OF THEIR
PASSIONS.

BEHOLD, WE HAVE FLED, AND THE
SEASON SIGHS FOR OUR GOING; FOR
OUT OF A HUNDRED PEARLS, BUT ONE
IS THRIDDED. ALAS, IT IS OWING TO
THE IGNORANCE OF MANKIND THAT A
HUNDRED THOUSAND NOBLE THOUGHTS
REMAIN UNUTTERED.

WITH A BELOVED FRIEND FOR MY
COMPANION, THAT WHICH DELIGHTS
ME IS A CUP OF WINE. WHEN MY
HEART IS BRIMMED WITH GRIEF,
MY EYES FLOW A FOUNTAIN OF TEARS.
ALAS, SINCE THIS WRETCHED WORLD IS
FOR US OF SHORT DURATION, ALL THAT
IS LEFT FOR US IS TO PASS OUR LIFE
IN DRUNKENNESS.

AN EARTHLY LOVE CAN SELDOM IN-
SPIRE PERFECTION. IT IS LIKE A
HALF EXTINCT FIRE WHICH NO
LONGER GIVES FORTH HEAT. HE WHO
LOVETH IN TRUTH, SHOULD NOT KNOW
REST, OR FOOD, OR SLEEP, THROUGH
MONTHS, OR THROUGH YEARS, BY DAY,
OR BY NIGHT.

ONE CUP OF WINE IS WORTH A HUN-
DRED HEARTS, A HUNDRED FAITHS;
ONE DROP OF WINE IS OF MORE
VALUE THAN THE EMPIRE OF KINGS!
WHAT IS THERE IN TRUTH TO BE
NAMED BEFORE IT? ITS BITTERNESS
IS BEYOND ALL THE SWEETS OF LIFE.

HOW MANY MEN DO I BEHOLD
PLUNGED IN THE SLEEP OF IGNO-
RANCE UPON THE EARTH, HOW MANY
ALREADY BURIED IN ITS BOSOM!
WHEN I CAST MY EYES OVER THIS
DESERT OF NOTHINGNESS, HOW MANY
SOULS DO I SEE WHO HAVE NOT YET
ARRIVED - HOW MANY WHO HAVE
ALREADY DEPARTED!

SEEING THAT THY MERCY IS VOUCH-
SAFED TO ME, I HAVE NO FEAR FOR
MY INIQUITIES; SINCE THOU POSSESSEST
ALL GOODNESS, I NEED NOT BE
ANXIOUS TO PROVIDE MYSELF FOR THE
JOURNEY. THE LEAVES OF THE
BOOK HAVE NO TERRORS FOR ME,
SINCE THY CLEMENCY HAS CLEARED
MY COUNTENANCE.

YESTERDAY I BEHELD AT THE BAZAAR
A POTTER SMITING WITH ALL HIS FORCE
THE CLAY HE WAS KNEADING. THE
EARTH SEEMED TO CRY OUT TO HIM,
"I ALSO WAS SUCH AS THOU - TREAT
ME THEREFORE LESS HARSHLY."

SINCE THOU OWNEST ONLY THAT
WHICH HATH BEEN VOUCHSAFED TO
THEE, LET NOT THY HEART BE GIVEN
OVER TO COVETOUSNESS. FIX NOT
THY AFFECTIONS ON THE THINGS OF
THIS WORLD, FOR AT THE END OF
THE PLAY THOU WILT HAVE TO
LEAVE ALL, AND CONVEY THYSELF
AWAY.

TO-DAY, THE WEATHER IS PLEASANT,
IT IS NEITHER HOT NOR COLD. THE
DEW WASHES THE DUST FROM THE
FACE OF THE ROSES, AND THE NIGHTIN-
GALE CRIETH TO THE YELLOW
FLOWERS, SAYING, “YE MUST DRINK
WINE."

MAY I ALWAYS HOLD IN MY HAND
A BRIMMING FLAGON! MAY MY LOVE
NEVER WANE FOR THOSE, FAIR GIRLS,
LIKE UNTO HOURIS. FOLK SAY, GOD
BIDS YOU RENOUNCE THESE JOYS, BUT
IF HE GAVE ME SUCH AN ORDER, I
SHOULD NOT OBEY IT. PERISH THE
THOUGHT!

THE WHEEL OF THE HEAVENS ONLY
INCREASETH OUR WOES BEYOND MEA-
SURE. SHE GIVETH NOTHING TO US
HERE THAT SHE DOES NOT AS SOON
SNATCH AWAY. - OH, IF THOSE WHO
HAVE NOT YET COME INTO THE WORLD
DID BUT KNOW THE MISERIES WHICH
AWAIT THEM, TRULY THEY WOULD NEVER
COME.

AT THE MOMENT WHEN MY SOUL
SHALL BE DELIVERED FROM DEATH,
WHEN MY MEMBERS SHALL BE SCAT
TERED FROM THE TREE OF MY LIFE
LIKE DRY LEAVES BEFORE THE WIND,
O, THEN, WITH WHAT JOY I SHALL
PASS OUT OF THIS WORLD THROUGH
A SIEVE, BEFORE MY OWN DUST IS
PASSED THROUGH IT BY THE BUILDER.

BEHOLD THE DAWN; ARISE, O
BEARDLESS LAD, AND FILL WITH
RUDDY WINE THE CLEAR VESSEL, FOR
YOU MAY SEEK HEREAFTER, AND SEEK
IN VAIN, THIS FAIR HOUR WHICH THIS
WORLD OF SHADOWS LENDS YOU.

THOSE WHO BY THEIR LEARNING
ARE THE ELECT OF THE WORLD, WHO
BY THEIR INTELLECT CLIMB THE
HEIGHTS OF HEAVEN, THOSE WHO
SCALE THE FIRMAMENT IN THEIR
SEARCH AFTER THE THINGS OF DIVINE
WISDOM, LOSE THEIR WITS, SEIZED
WITH DIZZINESS AND ALL AMAZEMENT.

WHEN YOU DRINK, DRINK WITH A
WITTY FELLOWSHIP, DRINK WITH FAIR
WOMEN WITH SMILING LIPS AND
TULIP TINTED CHEEKS. DRINK NOT
TOO DEEP, DO NOT BABBLE ABOUT IT.
DO NOT MAKE IT A CATCH WORD;
DRINK, BUT DRINK DISCREETLY, AND
IN SECRET.

LET NOT THE CONSTANT MAN FOR-
SWEAR THE JUICE OF THE VINE, FOR
WINE CONTAINS ALL THE VIRTUE OF
THE VERY WATER OF LIFE. IF ANY-
ONE WILL RENOUNCE HIS WINE DURING
THE MONTH OF RAMAZAN, LET HIM
AT LEAST ALSO RENOUNCE THE RECI-
TATION OF HIS PRAYERS.

DO NOT FORSWEAR THE JUICE OF
THE VINE IF YOU HAVE ANY STORE
THEREOF. FOR MANY A REPENTING
SIGN WILL FOLLOW SUCH A SACRIFICE.
THE ROSES SHED THEIR PETALS, THE
NIGHTINGALES CAST THEIR SONGS
ABROAD UPON THE AIR: WOULD IT BE
WISE IN SUCH AN HOUR TO FORSWEAR
THE FLAGON?

TO-MORROW I SHALL HAVE LEAPED
OVER THE MOUNTAIN WHICH DIVIDETH
US, AND SHALL SEIZE THE CUP IN MY
HAND WITH SURPASSING JOY. MY BE-
LOVED IS GRACIOUS, THE HOUR IS
FAIR AND FAVOURING. IF I HASTEN
NOT TO REJOICE IN THIS MOMENT,
WHEN SHALL I KNOW JOY AND GLAD
NESS?

THEY TELL US OF A PARADISE,
PEOPLED WITH HOURIS, FLOWING WITH
WINE AND HONEY. THEN MUST IT BE
LAWFUL TO LOVE WINE AND WOMEN
HERE, SINCE SUCH IS THE GOAL TO
WHICH OUR EXISTENCE TENDS.

SO LONG AS THE FRIEND REFUSES
TO POUR FOR ME THE SOUL INSPIRING
WINE, SO LONG AS THE SKIES REFUSE
TO SHOWER A THOUSAND KISSES ON
MY FACE AND FEET, SO LONG WILL IT
BE IDLE, WHEN THE HOLY MONTH IS
AT HAND, TO Bid ME GIVE MY FLAGON
THE GO BY. HOW CAN I RENOUNCE
IT WHEN GOD HAS NOT SO ORDERED
ME?

THE VERY HILLS WOULD LEAP FOR
JOY DID YOU BUT WASH THEIR STEEPS
WITH WINE. ONLY A FOOL IS SCORN-
FUL OF THE FLAGON. YOU WHO BID
ME RENOUNCE THE JUICE OF THE
VINE, LEARN THAT WINE IS THE SOUL,
THE COMPLEMENT OF MAN.

IN THE WAYS OF THE SOUL THOU
MUST WALK WITH UNDERSTANDING.
ABOUT THE THINGS OF THIS WORLD
THOUMUST KEEP SILENCE. THOUGH
THOU HAST EARS, EYES, AND TONGUE,
THOU MUST BE AS IF THOU HADST
THEM NOT.

DRINK YOUR WINE IN THE FELLOW-
SHIP OF THOSE SLENDER BEINGS, THE
CRIMSON OF WHOSE CHEEKS DISTURBS
THE HEART. FRIEND, WHEN YOU ARE
BITTEN BY THE SERPENT OF SORROW,
DRINK THE ANTIDOTE. FOR MY PART
I DRINK AND I BOAST THEREOF, MAY
IT PROVE GOOD TO ME. IF YOU WILL
NOT DRINK, WHAT WOULD YOU THAT
I SHOULD DO? GO, FOOL, AND EAT
THE EARTH.

HE WHO, IN THIS WORLD, POSSESSES
HALF A LOAF AND CAN SHELTER HIM-
SELF IN ANY NEST, HE WHO IS
NEITHER THE MASTER, OR SLAVE OF
ANY MAN, TELL HIM HIS LOT IS SWEET
AND TRANQUIL, AND HE SHOULD LIVE
CONTENT THEREIN.

SOMETIMES THE DRAUGHT OF OUR
LIFE IS CLEAR, SOMETIMES TURBID.
SOMETIMES OUR ROBES ARE WOOL,
SOMETIMES OF SILK. ALL THAT IS OF
NO MOMENT TO THE ENLIGHTENED
SOUL; BUT IS IT NO MOMENT TO DIE?

THE GREATEST WISDOM CONSISTS IN
DRAWING THE DELIGHT OF OUR HEARTS
FROM THE WINE FLAGON; LETTING NOT
OUR THOUGHTS DWELL ON THE PRE-
SENT OR THE PAST; AND FINALLY IN
RELEASING, IF BUT FOR A MOMENT,
FROM THE BONDS OF REASON, THIS
SOUL WHICH GROANS IN THIS PRISON-
HOUSE WHEREIN IT IS FOR A TIME
ENCLOSED.

IF YOU ARE INDEED MY FRIENDS,
SILENCE YOUR VAIN DISCOURSE, AND
SOFTEN MY SORROWS BY FILLING MY
CUP WITH WINE. WHEN I AM TURNED
TO DUST, MOULD OF MY DUST A BRICK,
AND PLACE THAT BRICK IN SOME GAP
IN THE WALLS OF A TAVERN.

NO MAN HAS PIERCED THE SECRETS
OF THE CAUSE. NO MAN HAS EVER
PASSED A STEP OUTSIDE HIMSELF. I
WATCH, AND I OBSERVE ONLY IMPER-
FECTION FROM THE PUPIL TO THE
MASTER, IMPERFECTION IN ALL THAT
IS BORN OF WOMAN.

FOLK TALK OF PARADISE WHERE
HOURIS DWELL, WHERE THE HEAVENLY
RIVER FLOWS, WHERE WINE AND
HONEY AND SUGAR ABOUND! BAH!
FILL ME QUICK A CUP OF WINE AND
PUT IT IN MY HAND, FOR A PRESENT
PLEASURE IS WORTH A THOUSAND
FUTURE JOYS.

FROM TIME TO TIME MY HEART
SEEMS CABINED IN ITS CAGE. IT IS A
DISGRACE TO BE THUS BLENDED OF
WATER AND OF EARTH. I DREAMED
OF BREAKING DOWN THIS PRISON-
HOUSE, BUT THEN MY FOOT WOULD
SLIP ON THE STONE OF THE LAW OF
THE KORAN.

THEY TELL US THAT THE MOON OF
RAMAZAN IS CLOSE AT HAND, THAT
WE MUST FORSWEAR WINE. WELL
AND GOOD, THEN I PROPOSE AT THE
END OF THE FEAST TO DRINK SO
DEEP THAT I SHALL BE DRUNKEN TO
THE VERY END OF THE SACRED
MONTH.

THE POTTERS WHO WITHOUT CEASE
PLUNGE THEIR HANDS IN THE CLAY,
WHO GIVE ALL THEIR MIND, ALL THEIR
SKILL, TO FORM IT, HOW LONG WILL
THEY CONTINUE TO TRAMPLE IT
UNDER FOOT, TO SMITE IT WITH THEIR
HANDS? WHAT THEN ARE THEIR
THOUGHTS? DO THEY NOT CONSIDER
THAT IT IS THE MOULD OF MANKIND
THEY TREAT THUS?

DRINK, THEN, DRINK OF THE
WINE WHICH GIVETH ETERNAL LIFE.
DRINK, FOR IT IS THE FOUNTAIN OF
LIFE AND OF YOUTH. IT BURNETH
AS A FLAME, BUT LIKE UNTO THE
WATER OF LIFE IT DISPELLETH SORROW
- DRINK THEREFORE.

HAS THY EMPIRE GAINED IN GLORY
BY MY SERVICE, O LORD MY GOD; HAS
THY GRANDEUR SUFFERED AUGHT BY
MY SINS? FORGIVENESS, GOD, AND
PUNISH NOT, FOR I KNOW THAT YOU
PUNISH LATE AND PARDON EARLY.

THERE ARE THOSE WHO IN THE
MADNESS OF THEIR ARROGANCE ARE
FALLEN INTO THE DEPTHS OF PRIDE,
OTHERS AGAIN WHO ABANDON THEM-
SELVES TO THE QUEST OF HOURIS
AND CELESTIAL PALACES. WHEN AT
LAST THE VEIL IS DRAWN IT WILL BE
REVEALED THAT THEY ALL HAVE FALLEN
FAR, FAR, FFROM THEE.

ALAS, MY HEART CAN FIND NO
COMFORT, MY SOUL IS ON THE POINT
OF ESCAPING FROM MY LIPS, WITH-
OUT HAVING ATTAINED ITS DESIRE.
ALAS ! MY LIFE HAS PASSED WITHOUT
KNOWLEDGE, AND THE ESSENCE OF
THIS LOVE REMAINETH UNKNOWN.

SEIZE THE SPARKLING CUP IN THY HAND,
AS SOON AS THE YELLOW DAY-
BREAK APPEARETH. TRUTH IS SHARP,
IT HAS BEEN SAID, IN THE MOUTH OF
MANKIND, FOR THIS CAUSE, IT MAY
BE, THAT WINE IS VERY TRUTH.

HOW LONG WILT THOU EXPEND THY
EXISTENCE ON VAIN SELF LOVE, OR IN
SEARCHING FOR THE SOURCE OF
BEING AND OF NOT BEING? DRINK
WINE, THEN, FOR SINCE THY LIFE
MUST BE FOLLOWED BY DEATH, THOU
HADST BEST PASS IT IN SLEEP OR IN
DRUNKENNESS.

O, BELOVED, BEFORE CARE SEIZETH
THEE, BID THEM SERVE US WITH WINE
THE COLOUR OF ROSES. THOU ART NOT
MADE OF GOLD, O THOUGHTLESS FOOL,
THAT THOU SHOULDST HOPE TO BE
DUG UP AFTER THOU ART LAID IN
THE EARTH.

IT WOULD BE HARD FOR MY HAND,
FAMILIAR WITH THE FLAGON, TO
HANDLE THE KORAN, AND REST UPON
THE PULPIT. IT IS DIFFERENT WITH
YOU, YOU DUSTY DEVOTEE; AS FOR
ME, I AM A SODDEN SWILLER, AND I
DO NOT KNOW THAT FLAME CAN FIRE
FLUID.

BE NOT DESIROUS OF THE THINGS
OF THIS WORLD. IF YOU WOULD
LIVE IN HAPPINESS, BREAK IN SUNDER
THE BONDS WHICH HOLD YOU CAPTIVE
TO EARTHLY JOYS AND SORROWS. BE
CONTENT, FOR THE HEAVENS MOVE IN
THEIR ACCUSTOMED COURSE, AND YOUR
LIFE IS OF SHORT DURATION.

OH, MY FRIEND, WHEREFORE VEX
THYSELF WITH THE PROBLEM OF
EXISTENCE? WHEREFORE TROUBLE
THY HEART AND THY SOUL THUS
WITH IDLE QUESTIONING? LIVE THY
LIFE IN JOY AND GLADNESS, FOR
AFTER ALL, THY COUNSEL WAS NOT
ASKED IN THE ORDERING OF HUMAN
AFFAIRS.

IT IS SAID THAT THERE WILL BE
JUDGMENT AT THE LAST DAY, AND
THAT THE BELOVED FRIEND WILL BE
ENRAGED. BUT FROM THE ETERNAL
GOODNESS, GOOD ALONE CAN PROCEED.
FEAR NOT, THEREFORE, FOR THOU
SHALT FIND MERCY AT THE LAST.

DRINK WINE, BEFORE THY NAME
HAS VANISHED FROM THE WORLD, FOR
WHEN THAT NECTAR FLOWETH INTO
THY HEART, CARE WILL DEPART
THEREFROM. UNBIND THE TRESSES OF
THE LOVED ONE'S HAIR BEFORE THE
SINEWS OF THY OWN BONES ARE
THEMSELVES UNBOUND.

BEHOLD THE DAWN ARISES. LET
US REJOICE IN THE PRESENT MOMENT
WITH A CUP OF CRIMSON WINE IN
OUR HAND. AS FOR HONOUR AND
FAME, LET THAT FRAGILE CRYSTAL BE
DASHED TO PIECES AGAINST THE
EARTH.

NO ONE HAS EVER DRAWN ASIDE
THE VEIL OF FATE. TO NO ONE
ARE THE HIDDEN THINGS OF THE
DIVINE WISDOM MADE KNOWN. FOR
SEVENTY TWO YEARS I HAVE THOUGHT
THEREON, BY DAY AND NIGHT,
BUT I HAVE LEARNED NOTHING,
AND THE ENIGMA REMAINETH UN-
SOLVED.

SEE THAT THOU DRINKEST NOT THY
WINE IN THE COMPANY OF SOME
CLOWN, RIOTOUS, HAVING NEITHER
WIT NOR MANNERS. NOUGHT BUT
DISSENSIONS CAN COME OF IT. IN
THE NIGHT TIME THOU WILT SUFFER
FROM HIS DRUNKENNESS, HIS CLAMOUR,
AND HIS FOLLY. ON THE MORROW
HIS PRAYERS AND HIS PENITENCE WILL
CAUSE THY HEAD TO ACHE.

OH, WHEEL OF HEAVEN, YOU FILL
MY SOUL WITH SADNESS, YOU REND
MY GARB OF JOY, YOU CHANGE THE
AIR I BREATHE INTO WATER, THE
WATER I DRINK INTO EARTH.

ONCE THOU ART IN THE TAVERN,
THOU CANST ONLY MAKE THY ABLU-
TIONS WITH WINE. WHEN THY NAME
HATH ONCE BEEN BEFOULED THERE,
THOU CANST NOT AGAIN CLEANSE IT.
BRING HITHER THE WINE THEREFORE,
SINCE THE COVERING OF OUR SHAME
HATH BEEN TORN BEYOND REPAIR.

WHAT DWELLER ON THIS EARTH
HAS EVER FOLDED IN HIS EMBRACE A
FAIR ONE WITH ROSE TINTED CHEEKS,
WHO HAS NOT FIRST RECEIVED SOME
THORN IN THE HEART FROM TIME?
BEHOLD THIS COMB, BEFORE IT CAN
BE SUFFERED TO TOUCH THE SCENTED
HAIR OF BEAUTY, IT HAS TO BE
HACKED INTO A RIDGE OF TEETH.

DRINK WINE, FOR THEREIN THOU
SHALT FIND FORGETFULNESS FOR ALL
THY ANXIETIES, AND IT WILL DELIVER
THEE FROM THY MEDITATIONS ON THE
PROBLEMS OP THE EARTH. RENOUNCE
NOT THIS ALCHEMY,FOR IF THOU
DRINKEST BUT ONE MEASURE THEREOF,
IT WILL SCATTER TO THE WINDS
THY ENDLESS CARES.

OPEN TO ME, OH GOD, THE GATE
OF THY GIFTS. GIVE ME TO EAT,
THAT I MAY OWE NOTHING TO THY
CREATURES, GIVE ME TO DRINK TILL
DRUNKENNESS DROWNS SORROW.

WINE IS FORBIDDEN, IT IS SAID, BUT
IT IS ONLY FORBIDDEN IN REGARD TO
HIM WHO MAKES NO MEASURE OF
WHAT HE DRINKS, AND THE ONE WITH
WHOM HE DRINKS. ALL THE CON-
DITIONS ONCE HELD IN OBSERVANCE,
WILL NOT THE WISE MAN DRINK?

THEY WHO DWELL WITHIN THE
TOMBS HAVE BECOME DUST AND
ASHES, ARE SCATTERED TO THE FOUR
WINDS, AND DIVIDED FROM EACH
OTHER. ALAS! WHAT DRINK IS THIS
WITH WHICH MANKIND IS FILLED, AND
WHICH HOLDS HIM THUS INFATUATED
UNTIL THE DAY OF THE LAST JUDG-
MENT?

BE WELCOME, SOLACE OF MY SOUL,
SCARCELY CAN I BELIEVE THAT THOU
ART HERE. DRINK, FOR GOD'S LOVE,
IF NOT FOR MINE, DRINK WINE TILL
I CAN DOUBT THY BEING.

THERE ARE THOSE WHO HAVE NEVER
PASSED THE NIGHT IN THE SEARCH
AFTER TRUTH, WHO HAVE NO THOUGHTS
BEYOND THEIR NARROW LIVES. THESE
THOU MAYEST BEHOLD CLOTHED IN THE
GARMENTS OF THE GREAT, AND DIS-
PARAGING THE WALKER IN THE PER-
FECT WAY.

THOU SHOULDST NOT PLANT THE
TREE OF BITTERNESS IN THY HEART,
BUT RATHER FLUTTER AT ALL TIMES
THE LEAVES OF THE BOOK OF JOY.
THOU SHOULDST DRINK THY WINE,
AND PURSUE THE DESIRE OF THY
HEART, FOR BEHOLD THE LENGTH OF
THY STAY ON THIS EARTH IS QUICKLY
MEASURED.

THOU SETTEST SNARES AROUND US
MANIFOLD, AND SAYEST, "DEATH TO
YE, IF YE ENTER THEREIN." THOU
LAYEST THE LURES THYSELF, AND
THEN GIVEST OVER THY VICTIM TO
DOOM.

ENJOY THY LIFE WHILE IT RE-
MAINETH TO THEE, FOR MANY OTHER
WAYFARERS WILL JOURNEY THROUGH
THE WORLD. THE SOUL CRIETH OUT
AFTER THE BODY HAS BEEN TORN
AWAY FROM IT, AND THE CROWN OF
THY HEAD WILL BE TRAMPLED UNDER
THE FEET OF POTTERS.

HAPPY IS THE HEART OF HIM WHO
HATH GONE THROUGH LIFE UNKNOWN.
WHOM THE VESTMENT OF HYPOCRISY
HATH NEVER CLOTHED, WHO LIKE UNTO
THE SAGE IS TRANSLATED INTO THE
SKIES, INSTEAD OF REJOICING LIKE AN
OWL AMONG THE RUINS OF THIS
WORLD.

ROSE, THOU ART LIKE UNTO A
LOVELY FACE; ROSE, THOU ART LIKE
UNTO A PRECIOUS RUBY. O, SHIFTING
FORTUNE, EVERY SECOND YOU SEEM
STRANGE TO ME, YET YOU ARE LIKE
UNTO A FAMILIAR FRIEND.

THE DRUNKARD WHO IS RICH
BRINGETH HIMSELF TO DESTRUCTION,
HIS RIOTOUS DRUNKENNESS IS A SCAN-
DAL TO MANKIND. I WILL THEREFORE
PLACE THIS HASHISH IN MY CUP
OF WINE AND THUS I WILL STRANGLE
THE SERPENT OF MY GRIEF.

THE DRINKER ALONE CAN UNDER-
STAND THE LANGUAGE OF THE ROSE
AND OF THE VINE, AND NOT THE FAINT-
HEARTED, AND THE CHEAP OF WIT.
TO THOSE WHO HAVE NO KNOWLEDGE
OF HIDDEN THINGS, IGNORANCE IS TO
BE PARDONED, FOR THE DRUNKARD
ONLY IS CAPABLE OF TASTING THE
DELIGHTS WHICH ARE AN ACCOMPANI-
MENT THEREOF.

OPEN THE GATE, FOR ONLY THOU
CANST OPEN IT; SHOW ME THE ROAD,
FOR ONLY THOU CANST SHOW IT. I
WILL REACH NO HAND TO THOSE WHO
WOULD FAIN UPLIFT ME, FOR THOU
ALONE ART ETERNAL.

LULLED BY A VAIN HOPE, I SCAT-
TERED TO THE WINDS A PORTION OF
MY LIFE, AND THAT BEFORE I HAD
KNOWN IN THIS WORLD A DAY OF
ENJOYMENT. ALAS! I FEAR NOW THAT
FLEETING TIME WILL NOT ALLOW ME
TO REPAY MYSELF FOR THE DAYS
THAT ARE PAST.

IT IS I WHO AM THE CHIEF FREQUEN-
TER OF THE TAVERN, IT IS I WHO WADE
KNEE DEEP IN REBELLION AGAINST
THY COMMANDMENT. IT IS I WHO
THE WHOLE NIGHT THROUGH, SOAKED
IN WINE, HURL THE COMPLAINT OF
MY WOUNDED HEART AGAINST THE
EARS OF GOD.

WHEN I AM DRUNK, THE WHOLE WORLD
MIGHT ROLL LIKE A BALL INTO A
HOLE, AND I SHOULD NOT CARE MORE
THAN FOR A BARLEY CORN. YESTERE'EN
I PAWNED MYSELF AT THE TAVERN
FOR A STOUP OF WINE, " LO, WHAT
AN EXCELLENT GAGE !” SAYS THE TAP-
STER.

FOR HOW MANY NIGHTS HAS SLEEP
FLED FROM OUR EYELIDS, BEFORE THE
CRUEL PARTING HAS TORN OUR HEARTS
ASUNDER ! ARISE, MY BELOVED, AND
LET US LIVE FOR AN INSTANT BEFORE
THE BREATH OF DAWN BLOWS UPON
US. ALAS, FOR HOW LONG A TIME IT
WILL STILL BREATHE WHEN OUR
BREATH IS EXTINCT!

TWO THINGS ARE THE BASE OF WISDOM,
THE PEARLS OF TRADITION: EAT
NOT OF ALL THAT IS EATEN, HOLD
ALOOF FROM ALL THAT IS EVIL.

HOW LONG WILT THOU CONDEMN
US, O FOOLISH DEVOTEE? WE ARE
THE FREQUENTERS OF THE TAVERN,
WE ARE GIVEN OVER TO DRUNKEN-
NESS WITHOUT CEASE. THOU ART
ENTIRELY ABSORBED IN THY CHAPLET,
IN THY HYPOCRISY, IN THY VILE
DEVICES. WE FOLLOW THE DESIRES
OF OUR HEARTS WITH THE WINE-CUP
FOREVER IN OUR HAND, AND OUR
LOVED ONE BESIDE US.

THE STEADY MARCH OF SPRINGS
AND AUTUMNS SWEEP THE LEAVES
FROM OUR LIFE'S TREES. DRINK
WINE, FRIEND, FOR THE WISE HAVE
WISELY SAID, "LIFE'S CARES ARE A
POISON, AND WINE ITS BEST ANTI-
DOTE."

THOU WHO HAST BURNED, WHO
BURNEST, WHO DESERVEST STILL TO
BURN, FEEDING THE FIRE OF HELL,
WHY DOST THOU CALL ON GOD TO
PARDON OMAR? WHAT HAS GOD TO
DO WITH THEE? HOW DAREST THOU
APPEAL TO HIS PITY?

ART THOU FULL OF HEAVINESS?
TAKE THOU A MORSEL OF HASHISH,
AS LARGE AS A GRAIN OF BARLEY,
OR DRINK BUT A SMALL MEASURE
OF ROSE COLOURED WINE. THOU ART
BECOME A SAGE, TRULY! THOU
MAYST NOT DRINK THIS, THOU TAKEST
NOT THAT ! NOTHING IS LEFT TO
THEE BUT TO EAT PEBBLES - GO, AND
EAT THEM THEN.

NO LONGER, O REASON, WILL I
CONTINUE TO BE THY SLAVE; WHERE-
FORE SHOULD I CARE IF IN THIS
WORLD I REMAIN FOR FIFTY YEARS,
OR BUT ONE DAY IS LEFT TO ME?
COME, LET US DRINK WINE FROM THE
FLAGON BEFORE WE OURSELVES BE-
COME POTS IN THE SHOP OF THE
POTTER.

I MET A WISE MAN IN A DRUNKARD'S
HOUSE, AND ASKED HIM TIDINGS OF
THE ABSENT ONES. HE ANSWERED,
"DRINK YOUR WINE, FOR MANY LIKE
UNTO US HAVE GONE HENCE, AND
NOT RETURNED AGAIN."

I KNOW NOT IF HE WHO CREATED
ME BELONGS TO HAPPY PARADISE OR
TERRIBLE HELL, BUT I KNOW THAT
A CUP OF WINE, A FAIR PARAMOUR,
AND A LUTE ON THE BORDERS OF A
PLEASANT LAND, REJOICE MY HEART
IN THIS PRESENT HOUR, AND THAT
THOU LIVEST ON THE PROMISE OF A
FUTURE PARADISE.

IT IS DAWN, EVER WELCOME, BE-
LOVED, SING YOUR SONG, AND DRINK
YOUR WINE, FOR THE LONG ARRAY OF
MONTHS HAS OVERTHROWN A THOU-
SAND KINGS LIKE DJEMSHID AND KAI-
KHOSROU.

I DRINK OF THE WINE, AND THEY
WHO OPPOSE IT COME ABOUT ME ON
THE RIGHT HAND AND ON THE LEFT,
TO PERSUADE ME TO RENOUNCE IT,
SAYING THAT WINE IS THE ENEMY OF
RELIGION. BUT, THEREFORE, BECAUSE
I HOLD MYSELF AN ADVERSARY OF
THE FAITH, I WISH BY ALLAH TO
DRINK THEREOF, FOR IT IS PERMITTED
TO DRINK THE BLOOD OF ONE’S
ENEMY.

IF I WERE FREE TO USE MY WILL,
IF I WERE FREE FROM CARES OF GOOD
AND EVIL IN THIS WORTHLESS WORLD,
HOW WILLINGLY WOULD I CHOOSE
NEVER TO HAVE COME HERE, NEVER
TO HAVE LIVED HERE, NEVER TO DE-
PART HENCE.

HOW IS IT THAT GRAPES ARE SOUR
AT FIRST, AND AFTER, SWEET? HOW
IS IT THAT WINE IS BITTER? IF A
BIT OF WOOD IS FASHIONED WITH A
KNIFE INTO A VIOL, HOW IS IT THAT
THE SAME KNIFE CAN FASHION A
LUTE?

FROM AFAR CAME ONE FOUL
FAVOURED, CLAD ABOUT AS IN SMOKE
OF HELL, SEX-LESS, HORRIBLE. HE
BROKE OUR FLAGON, SPILLING THE
RED WINE, AND BOASTED THAT THE
DEED WAS GLORIOUS.

SINCE WE ABIDE IN THIS WORLD IN
NO FIXED HABITATION, IT TRULY
WOULD BE A FATAL ERROR TO ABSTAIN
FROM THE WINE-CUP AND THE CA-
RESSES OF OUR BELOVED ONES. OH,
MAN OF PEACE, HOW LONG WILT THOU
CONTINUE THY VAIN REASONING ON
THE CREATION AND ETERNITY OF
THIS WORLD? - WHAT TO ME WILL BE
ITS ANTIQUITY OR NEWNESS WHEN I
NO LONGER ABIDE HEREIN?

PLAGUE UPON HEART-BREAKING HY-
POCRISY, O CUP-BEARER; UP, AND
HITHER WITH THE WINE, O CUP-
BEARER; TO BUY IT, SELL THE
PRAYER-CLOTH AND THE SACRED TUR-
BAN, FOR WINE IS THE END OF ALL
MY ARGUMENT.

O HEART, WHEN THOU SITTEST AT
THE FEET OF THY BELOVED, THOU
HAST LOST THYSELF TO FIND THYSELF.
WHEN THOU HAST QUAFFED THE WINE
OF NOTHINGNESS, THOU ART SET APART
FROM THOSE THAT ARE, AND THOSE
THAT ARE NO MORE.

THE COMMANDMENTS OF RELIGION
ONLY INSIST ON THE FULFILLING
OF THY OBLIGATION TO THE DEITY.
REFUSE NOT THY MORSEL OF BREAD
TO ANOTHER, REFRAIN THY TONGUE
FROM SLANDER, AND SEEK NOT TO
RENDER EVIL TO THY NEIGHBOUR.
IF THOU DOEST THIS, I MYSELF PRO-
MISE THEE THE FUTURE LIFE. - BRING
HITHER THE WINE!

BESTIR THYSELF, SINCE THOU ART
COOPED BENEATH THIS INEXORABLE
VAULT, DRINK WINE, SINCE THOU ART
PERFORCE IN THIS LUCKLESS WORLD.
IF ANYTHING FROM FIRST TO LAST BE
BUT EARTH, AT LEAST BEAR THYSELF
AS IF THOU STILL DIDST WALK THE
EARTH, NOT AS IF THOU WERT AL-
READY LAID BENEATH IT.

O HEART, MY HEART YOU WILL
NEVER KNOW THE SECRET, YOU WILL
NEVER TOP THE WISDOM OF THE
WISE. MAKE FOR YOURSELF A HEAVEN
HERE WITH WINE, FOR WHO KNOWS IF
YOU WILL OR WILL NOT RELISH THE
HIGHER HEAVEN?

CHOOSE IGNORANCE, IF YOU HAVE
WIT, THAT YOU MAY TAKE THE BOWL
OF WINE FROM THE HANDS OF THE
DRINKERS OF ETERNITY. BUT IF YOU
ARE IGNORANT, IGNORANCE IS NOT
FOR THEE. IT IS NOT GIVEN TO ALL
THE IGNORANT TO TASTE THE SWEETS
OF IGNORANCE.

I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT WINE, I
COULD NOT BEAR THE BODY’S BURDEN
BUT FOR THE JUICE OF THE VINE. I
AM THE SLAVE OF THAT SWEET MOMENT
WHEN THE CUP-BEARER OFFERS ME
YET ANOTHER DRAUGHT, AND I AM
TOO DRUNK TO TAKE IT.

HOW LONG WILL THESE WRANGLE ON
THE FIVE AND FOUR, O CUP-BEARER!
IT IS AS HARD TO UNDERSTAND ONE
AS ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND, O CUP-
BEARER; WE ARE BUT EARTH, SO
TUNE THE LUTE, O CUP-BEARER; WE
ARE BUT AS SOFT AIR, BRING WINE, O
CUP-BEARER?

WERT THOU AS WISE AS ARISTOTLE,
WERT THOU AS POTENT AS ROMAN
CAESAR, OR MONARCH OF CATHAY,
DRINK, DRINK, I SAY, IN THE CUP
OF DJEMSHID, FOR THE GRAVE IS THE
END OF ALL, YEA, WERT THOU BAHRAM
HIMSELF, THE TOMB IS THY FINAL
ABODE.

A SHEIKH SAID TO A HARLOT,
"THOU ART DRUNK; EACH MOMENT
THOU ART CAUGHT IN SOMEONE'S
NETS." SHE ANSWERED UNTO HIM,
"O SHEIKH, I AM ALL THAT THOU
CALLEST THY SERVANT, BUT THOU,
ART THOU ALL THOU APPEAREST TO
BE?"

WE HAVE WINE, AND THE WELL-
BELOVED, AND THE MORNING, O CUP-
BEARER. NOT FROM US COMETH RE-
NUNCIATION, O CUP-BEARER. HOW
LONG WILT THOU TELL THE TALES OF
OLD, CUP-BEARER? BRING ME
SWEETLY THE PEACE OF THE SOUL,
O CUP-BEARER.

IT IS MY PLEASURE TO DROWN MY
REASON IN WINE; OUR SECRET SES-
SIONS ARE CALLED FOR THE SERVICE
OF THE WINE-CUP. O HERMIT OF THE
HEART, DO NOT, IN YOUR PILGRIMAGE,
DENY YOURSELF THE CUP: BE LIKE
US, WHO ARE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS, AND
DELIGHT IN THE LIP OF THE LOVER.

WE TAKE THE KORAN IN ONE HAND,
AND THE WINE-CUP IN THE OTHER,
AND BEHOLD WE ARE LURED NOW TO
THE LAWFUL, NOW TO THE UNLAW-
FUL DELIGHT. THUS IT COMES TO
PASS THAT UNDERNEATH YON SPANGLED
BOWL WE ARE NEITHER ALL FAITHFUL,
NOR ALL FAITHLESS.

DRINK WINE, FOR BEHOLD HOW THE
JUICE MOISTENETH THE SIDES OF THE
JAR. HOW OFTEN NEED I SAY THAT I
HAVE BROKEN THE SEALS OF ALL MY
VOWS? YET, IS IT NOT BETTER TO
BREAK THE SEALS OF A HUNDRED
OATHS, THAN TO BREAK THE SIDES OF
A JAR OF WINE?

DO NOT SET THE ESTIMATE OF
YOUR LIFE ABOVE SIXTY YEARS; DO
NOT SET YOUR FOOT ANYWHERE
WITHOUT BEING INTOXICATED. SO
LONG AS YOUR SKULL IS NOT MADE
INTO A JAR, DO NOT SET THE GOURD
FROM YOUR SHOULDERS, NOR THE CUP
FROM YOUR HAND.

ARISE, DASH DOWN THE CARES OF
FLEETING LIFE, BE MERRY IN THIS
MOMENTARY BEING. IF HEAVEN HAD
BEEN CONSTANT IN ITS GIFTS TO
OTHERS, REMEMBER THAT YOU
COULD NEVER HAVE TAKEN THEIR
TURN OF ENJOYMENT.

WHEN I GAZE, I SEEM TO SEE THE
GRASS, THE STREAMS OF PARADISE.
EARTH, FREED FROM WINTER'S HELL,
SEEMS TURNED TO HEAVEN. REST
WITH SOME FAIR FACE IN THIS FAIR
PLACE.

FOLLOW THE FOOTSTEPS OF THE
KALENDERS, ABIDE IN THE TAVERN,
THINK ONLY OF WINE, WOMEN, AND
SONG. WITH CUP AND CAN, O WELL-
BELOVED, DRINK AND CEASE TO BATTLE
OF VAIN THINGS.

WE HAVE BROKEN ALL OUR VOWS,
WE HAVE CLOSED THE GATES OF
GOOD AND EVIL FAME; DO NOT BLAME
US FOR BEING FOOLISH IN OUR FOLLY,
FOR WE ARE DRUNK WITH THE WINE
OF LOVE.

REACH ME TULIP TINTED WINE,
POUR THE PURE BLOOD OF THE VINE
FROM THE THROAT OF THE FLAGON,
FOR WHERE IN THESE DAYS SHALL I
FIND SO TRUE A FRIEND SAVE IN THE
WINE-CUP?

THOSE THAT HAVE GONE HENCE
BEFORE US, O CUP-BEARER, ARE LAPPED
IN THE DUST OF PRIDE, O CUP-BEARER;
DRINK THEN THY WINE, AND HEAR
THE TRUTH I TELL; THE WORDS
THEY WHISPERED WERE BUT WIND, O
CUP-BEARER.

THOU HAST STAMPED US WITH A
STRANGE SEAL, THOU HAST MADE US
DO STRANGE DEEDS. HOW CAN I BE
BETTER THAN I AM, FOR SUCH AS I
AM, YOU DREW ME FROM THE VOID?

BE WISE, O MY FAIR, AND LIGHTEN
THE LOAD OF THY LOVER, FOR ALL
THY GOODLY SHOW WILL NOT ENDURE,
LIKE ALL THE WORLD THY FEET WILL
GO DOWN TO THE DUST.

THOU WHO COMMANDEST THE QUICK
AND THE DEAD, THE WHEEL OF HEA-
VEN OBEYS THY HAND. WHAT IF I
AM EVIL, AM I NOT THY SLAVE?
WHICH THEN IS THE GUILTY ONE?
ART THOU NOT LORD OF ALL?

O OFFSPRING OF THE FOUR AND
FIVE, ART PUZZLED BY THE FOUR AND
FIVE? DRINK DEEP, FOR I HAVE TOLD
THEE TIME ON TIME, THAT ONCE DE-
PARTED, THOU RETURNEST NO MORE.

NOW THOU ART HIDDEN, KNOWN OF
NONE, NOW THOU ART DISPLAYED IN
ALL CREATED THINGS. IT IS FOR THY
OWN DELIGHT,THAT THOU PERFORMEST
THESE WONDERS, BEING AT ONCE THE
SPORT AND THE SPECTATOR.

IF YOU FIND FAME IN A TOWN YOU
ARE CONSIDERED EVIL. IF YOU LIVE
IN A NOOK, YOU ARE LOOKED UPON
AS A SCHEMER. THE BEST THING FOR
ANY MAN, WERE HE A SAINT OR A
PROPHET, WOULD BE TO LIVE, KNOWING
NO ONE, KNOWN OF NO ONE.

IT IS BETTER TO LIGHTEN ONE SAD
SOUL, THAN TO PEOPLE A WORLD. IT
IS NOBLER TO ENSLAVE ONE FREE
MAN WITH CHARITY, THAN TO SET
FREE A THOUSAND SLAVES.

LO, THE MOMENT FOR THE MORNING
WINE, HEAR THE MUEZZIN, O CUP-
BEARER. HERE IS A WINE-HOUSE,
HERE IS WINE, WE ARE READY, O
CUP-BEARER. THIS IS NO TIME FOR
PRAYERS, CEASE BABBLING OF DEVOTION,
DRINK AND BE STILL, O CUP-BEARER.

IF I AM THE FRIEND OF WINE AND
DRUNKENNESS, WHY SHOULD I BE
BLAMED? IF ALL UNLAWFUL DEEDS
PRODUCED INTOXICATION, THERE
WOULD BE LITTLE SOBER REASON
LEFT ON EARTH.

IN THIS JUGGLING HOUSE OF LIFE,
FRIENDSHIP IS A VAIN THING; BE
WISE AND TRUST NONE. BEAR THY
PAINS, SEEK NO REMEDY, BE CHEER-
FUL IN THY SORROWS, AND SEEK NOT
TO SHARE THEM WITH OTHERS.

O MY KING, HOW MANY A MAN
LIKE ME IN THE ROSE BOWER, IN THE
FAIR FELLOWSHIP OF DANCERS AND
DRINKERS, REMAINS ALOOF, AN ON-
LOOKER? A GARDEN, A WINE JAR,
AND A LUTE ARE BETTER THAN PARA-
DISE WITH ITS STREAMS AND HOURIS.

I SAW A HERMIT IN A DESERT
PLACE. HE WAS NEITHER HERETIC
NOR TRUE BELIEVER, HE HAD NEITHER
RICHES, NOR CREED, NOR GOD, NOR
TRUTH, NOR LAW, NOR KNOWLEDGE.
WHERE IS THE MAN OF LIKE COURAGE
IN THIS WORLD OR THE OTHER WORLD?

WOULDST THOU HAVE THE WORLD
AT THY FEET, THEN STRENGTHEN THY
SOUL, AND BELIEVE WITH ME THAT
WISDOM LIES IN DRINKING WINE AND
DAFFING THE WORLD ASIDE.

IT IS WELL TO BE OF GOOD REPU-
TATION: IT IS ILL TO COMPLAIN OF
HEAVEN'S INJUSTICE. IT IS BETTER
TO BE DRUNK WITH THE BLOOD OF
THE VINE THAN SWOLLEN WITH SHAM
PIETY.

GIVE ME TO DRINK OF THAT FLOWER-
COLOURED WINE, O CUP-BEARER;
POUR, FOR MY SOUL IS LADEN WITH
SORROW, O CUP-BEARER; POUR, I SAY,
FOR IN SETTING ME FREE FROM
MYSELF, IT SETS ME FREE ALSO FROM
THE CARES OF THIS WORLD, O CUP-
BEARER.

GIVE ME DELIGHTFUL WINE, O CUP-
BEARER, THAT DIVINE JUICE WHICH,
LIKE A CHAIN OF LINKED RINGS,
HOLDS FOOLS AND SAGES IN SWEET
SERVITUDE.

THIS WHEEL OF HEAVEN SEEKS MY
DESTRUCTION AND THINE, IT PLOTS
AGAINST MY SOUL AND THINE. COME,
SEAT THYSELF UPON THE GRASS, FOR
IN A LITTLE WHILE FRESH GRASS
WILL SPRING FROM THIS DUST OF
MINE AND THINE.

WE ARE ALL LOVERS, ALL BIBBERS,
ALL WORSHIPPERS OF THE VINE, WE
ARE ALL IN THE TAVERN FREE FROM
THOUGHTS OF GOOD AND EVIL.
TROUBLE NOT OUR INTELLIGENCE,
FOR WE ARE ALL DRUNK.

LAST NIGHT IN THE TAVERN MY
FAMILIAR FRIEND HELD OUT THE CUP
AND BADE ME DRINK OF IF. "I WILL
NOT DRINK," I SAID, AND HE REPLIED,
"DRINK FOR MY LOVE’S SAKE."

YESTERDAY I SAT BY A STREAM
WITH A BEAUTIFUL GIRL AND A VES-
SEL OF WINE. BEFORE ME STOOD THE
SHELL WHOSE PEARL GAVE FORTH
SUCH LIGHT THAT THE COCK CREW,
BELIEVING IT WAS DAWN.

DO NOT HEED THE SPEECH OF
FRIVOLOUS WOMEN, BUT SEIZE THE
CUP OF CLEAR WINE FROM THE HANDS
OF THE COMELY. ALL WHO EVER
TROD THIS EARTH HAVE VANISHED
ONE BY ONE, AND WHO CAN SAY THAT
ONE HAS E’ER RETURNED?

WHEN MY SOUL AND THINE HAVE
FLITTED, THEY WILL PLACE A COUPLE
OF BRICKS UPON MY GRAVE AND THINE.
THEN TO MAKE BRICKS FOR OTHER
TOMBS THEY WILL SEND TO THE KILN
MY DUST AND THINE.

THAT PALACE WHICH TOUCHED THE
HEAVENS, BEFORE WHOSE DOOR KINGS
BOWED THE HEAD, WE SAW THE RING-
DOVE ON ITS BATTLEMENTS, RESTING
AND CRYING, "COO, COO, !”

TO DRINK AND DELIGHT IN FAIR
FACES IS WISER THAN TO AFFECT A
HYPOCRITICAL FAITH. IF ALL THE
LOVERS, AND ALL THE JOYOUS TOPERS,
GO TO HELL, NOBODY WILL WANT TO
GO TO PARADISE.

WHAT IS THE GOOD OF OUR EN-
TRANCE TO, OUR EXIT FROM, THIS
WORLD? WHAT HAS BECOME OF ALL
OUR HOPES? WHERE IS THE BREATH
OF ALL THE WISE AND GOOD WHO
HAVE BEEN TURNED TO DUST?

WE DRINK WINE OLD AND NEW,
WE WOULD SELL THE WORLD FOR A
BRACE OF BARLEYCORNS. DO YOU
KNOW WHERE YOU GO AFTER DEATH?
GIVE ME SOME WINE, AND GO WHERE
YOU PLEASE.

FLEE FROM THE LESSONS OF LEARN-
ING AND PIETY, TURN TO THE TRESSES
ROUND THE LOVELY FACE, SPILL THE
BLOOD OF THE VINE IN YOUR CUP
BEFORE TIME SPILLS THY BLOOD ON
THE EARTH.

THE STRONG WINE OF OURSELVES
HAS EXALTED US WITH JOY; WE THAT
WERE LOWLY, HOLD OUR HEADS HIGH;
NOW WE ARE FREE FROM THE BODY'S
DOMINION, WE HAVE RETURNED TO
EARTH FROM WHENCE WE ROSE.

A FIG FOR MOSQUES, PRAYERS,
FASTINGS; HIE THEE TO THE TAVERN
AND GET DRUNK, EVEN IF THOU HAST
TO BEG FOR IT. DRINK, MY KHAYYAM,
FOR SOON THAT EARTH OF THINE
WILL BE FASHIONED INTO CUPS AND
BOWLS AND JARS.

NOT FOR ONE HOUR CAN I SHAKE
OFF THE WORLD, NOT FOR ONE MO-
MENT CAN I BUY CONTENT. LONG,
LONG HAVE I SERVED IN THE SCHOOL
OF SORROW, AND STILL AM MASTER
NEITHER OF THIS WORLD NOR THE
NEXT.

TO YOU THIS EARTHLY CUP IS BIG
WITH A SOUL, LIKE TO A JASMIN
BEARING BLOSSOMS OF THE JUDAS
TREE. NAY, THE FAIR CLEARNESS
OF THE WINE DECEIVES ME, IT IS
CLEAR WATER, BIG WITH LIQUID FIRE.

THIS WORLD OF DUST FROM CORNER
TO CORNER, NOTWITHSTANDING THE
STUDY OF THE WISE EYED, WILL SEE
NO BETTER PRODUCTION OF THE
FAITHLESS EARTH THAN CLEAR WINE
AND LOVELY BEINGS.

HEARKEN UNTO ME, THOU THAT
HAST NOT YET SEEN THY FRIENDS
GROW OLD. VEX NOT THYSELF ABOUT
THE WHEEL OF HEAVEN, CONTENT
THEE WITH WHAT THOU HAST, AND
PLACIDLY BEHOLD LIFE'S JUGGLES
WITH THE DESTINIES OF MEN.

BE GENIAL TO THE GENIAL REVEL-
LERS, FOLLOW, MY FRIEND, THE WIS-
DOM OF KHAYYAM. AWAY WITH
PRAYERS, AWAY WITH FASTS; DRINK
DEEP AND BE KINDLY.

ARE YOU NOT ASHAMED, O MULLAH,
THUS TO IGNORE ALL THE ORDINANCES
AND ALL THE PROHIBITIONS? EVEN
IF YOU HEAPED UP ALL THE TREASURES
OF THE EARTH, WHAT CAN YOU DO
WITH THEM AT LAST, SAVE LEAVE
THEM TO SOMEONE ELSE?

DO NOT CALL TO MIND THE DAY
WHICH HAS PASSED FROM YOU; DO
NOT LAMENT FOR UNBORN TO-MORROW,
DO NOT BUILD ON THE COMING AND
THE PAST AWAY, TAKE THE FAIR HOUR,
AND DO NOT CAST YOUR LIFE TO THE
WIND.

IF I, LIKE GOD, WERE MASTER OF
THE HEAVENS, I WOULD BLOT THEM
FROM THE WORLD, AND FASHION NEW
SKIES BENEATH WHICH FREE MAN
MIGHT GAIN HIS HEART'S DESIRE.

EVERY DAY AT DAWN, I WILL HASTE
TO THE WINE-HOUSE WITH THE
SUBTLE KALENDARS. O, THOU THAT
HAST THE KEY TO HIDDEN SECRETS,
GIVE ME FAITH IF THOU WOULDST
HAVE ME PRAYERFUL.

THANKS TO YOU, MIRROR-LIKE DISC
OF HEAVEN, THANKS TO THE FAVOURS
OF THIS FLEETING TIME WHICH FALL
BUT TO THE BASEST, MY CHEEKS,
HOLLOW AS CUPS, ARE BRIMMED WITH
TEARS, AND MY HEART, LIKE A JAR,
IS FULL OF BLOOD.

THERE IS A BULL IN HEAVEN NAMED
PARWIN, THERE IS ANOTHER BULL
THAT BEARS THE EARTH; OPEN THE
EYES OF KNOWLEDGE AND BEHOLD
THIS DROVE OF ASSES PLACED BETWEEN
TWO BULLS.

LO, LIGHT, AND WINE, AND PLENILUNE,
O CUP-BEARER; LO, THE BEAUTY LOVE-
LIER THAN THE CAPTAIN JEWEL, O CUP-
BEARER; TALK NOT OF EARTH UNTO
THIS BURNING HEART, CAST IT NOT
TO THE WIND; BRING DRINK, O CUP-
BEARER.

VAINLY YOU RAVE OF RUBY-TINTED
LIPS, VAINLY YOU WHISPER OF THE
SWEETNESS OF WINE, AND THE
MELODIES OF LUTE AND DULCIMER.
BE GOD MY WITNESS, THAT TILL YOU
SEVER THE TIES OF EARTH, YOUR
EXISTENCE IS VAIN.

ALL THAT THOU SAYEST OF ME IS
STEEPED IN HATE, THOU CALLEST ME
UNBELIEVER, ATHEIST: I AM WHAT I
AM, AND MAKE A VOUCH OF IT, BUT
IS IT JUST FOR THEE TO RAIL AT ME?

I CAN RENOUNCE ALL, BUT WINE -
NEVER. I CAN CONSOLE MYSELF FOR
ALL ELSE, BUT FOR WINE - NEVER. IS IT
POSSIBLE FOR ME TO BECOME A GOOD
MUSSULMAN, AND TO GIVE UP OLD
WINE? - NEVER.

CLEAR COMELY WINE, I FAIN WOULD
DRINK SO DEEP OF THY DIVINITY
THAT THOSE BEHOLDING ME FROM
AFAR SHOULD BLEND MY BEING WITH
THINE AND SAY, "O LORD WINE,
WHENCE COMEST THOU?"

BEFORE YOU DRAIN THE CUP OF
DEATH, BEFORE THE WHEEL OF TIME
HAS HURLED YOU BACK, GET GOODS
AND GEAR WHILE YOU ARE HERE,
FOR IN THE LOWER LAND, NO WEL-
COME HAS THE EMPTY HAND.

DEAREST, WHILE WE TREAD THIS
EARTH, LIFT THE JAR AND DRINK ITS
WINE. ERE THE POTTER TURNS TO
SHAPE FROM THY DUST AND MINE,
OTHER JARS FOR OTHER LIPS, FILL MY
CUP AND EMPTY THINE.

THY CUP IS BRIMMED WITH MOLTEN
RUBIES, O CUP-BEARER; FEED MY SOUL
WITH THE FLASHES OF THAT FLAMING
STONE, O CUP-BEARER, GIVE TO MY
HANDS THAT HOLY BOWL, O CUP-
BEARER, THAT I MIGHT LEND NEW
BEING TO MY SOUL, O CUP-BEARER.

WHILE STILL YOU BOAST OF BONES,
AND VEINS, AND SINEWS, ABIDE IN THE
CIRCLE OF YOUR DESTINY. YIELD NO-
THING TO YOUR ENEMY, WERE HE
RUSTEM, SON OF ZAL; BE UNDER NO
BOND OF OBLIGATION TO YOUR FRIEND,
WERE HE HATIM TAI.

DO YOU DESIRE A HAPPY LIFE, DO
YOU DESIRE A HEART DEVOID OF
CARE, THEN DRINK, DRINK,
WITH EVERY PASSING MINUTE, AND
FROM EACH DRAUGHT FIND NEW
DELIGHT IN LIFE.

I HAVE SWEPT THE THRESHOLD
OF THE TAVERN WITH MY HAIR, I
HAVE GIVEN THE GOOD BYE TO
THOUGHTS OF GOOD AND ILL, OF THIS
WORLD AND THE OTHER. WHEN I AM
DRUNK, THEY MIGHT BOTH ROLL
INTO A DITCH, WITHOUT MY HEEDING
THEM MORE THAN TWO BARLEY-CORNS.

I PASSED INTO THE POTTER'S HOUSE
OF CLAY, AND SAW THE CRAFTSMAN
BUSY AT HIS WHEEL, TURNING OUT
POTS AND JARS FASHIONED FROM THE
HEADS OF KINGS, AND THE FEET OF
BEGGARS.

SINCE THOU KNOWEST THE SECRETS,
O YOUTH, WHY SO RACKED WITH
DESPAIRING DOUBTS? THOUGH THE
WHEEL OF LIFE DOES NOT TURN TO
THY PLEASURE, STILL BE MERRY IN
THIS HOUR, WHILE STILL THOU
DRAWEST BREATH.

LAST EVE I BROKE AGAINST A STONE
AN EARTHEN CUP, DRUNK IN THE
DOING OF THIS FOOLISH DEED. ME-
THOUGHT THE CUP PROTESTED UNTO
ME "I WAS LIKE THEE, THOU WILT
BE LIKE TO ME."

BEAR GREETING FROM ME TO KHAY-
YAM, AND THEN SAY, "OH, INEXPE-
RIENCED KHAYYAM, WHEN THEN HAVE
I SAID THAT WINE IS UNLAWFUL? TO
THE FOOLISH IT IS UNLAWFUL, BUT
TO THE WISE IT IS LAWFUL."

STILL TO ME MY BREATH, THANKS
TO THE CUP-BEARER, REMAINS, BUT IN
THE FELLOWSHIP OF CREATED THINGS,
DISCONTENT REMAINS. OF YESTERE'EN'S
WINE, ONLY A FLAGON REMAINS, BUT
I KNOW NOT HOW MUCH OF LIFE
YET REMAINS.

WHEN THE HAND POSSESSE A LOAF OF
WHEATEN BREAD, TWO MEASURES OF
WINE, AND A PIECE OF FLESH, WHEN
SEATED WITH TULIP-CHEEKS IN SOME
LONELY SPOT, BEHOLD SUCH JOY AS IS
NOT GIVEN TO ALL SULTANS.

BE NOT ROUGH WITH THE POT-
COMPANIONS, BE NOT GRUFF WITH
THE WISEACRES, BUT DRINK YOUR
WINE, FOR WHETHER YOU DRINK
WINE OR NO, IF YOU ARE SEARED
WITH HELL-FIRE, YOU SHALL NOT
HOPE TO PASS INTO PARADISE.

IN THE ASSEMBLAGE OF LOVERS WE
ALL ARE SEATED, FROM THE LABOUR
OF DAYS WE HAVE ALL ESCAPED, WE
HAVE EMPTIED THE CUP OF THE WINE
OF OUR DESIRE, WE ARE ALL FREE
AND TRANQUIL AND INTOXICATED.

THOU HAST BROKEN MY WINE-JUG,
O LORD, THOU HAST CLOSED AGAINST
ME THE DOOR OF DELIGHT, O LORD,
THOU HAST SPILT UPON THE EARTH
MY CLEAR WINE; EARTH BE IN MY
MOUTH UNLESS THOU ART DRUNK, O
LORD.

A MOUTHFUL OF WINE IS BETTER
THAN EMPIRE. ABJURE ALL SAVE
WINE. ONE CUP OF WINE IS BETTER
THAN THE KINGDOM OF FERIDOUN.
THE TILE WHICH COVERS THE MOUTH
OF THE WINE JAR IS MORE PRECIOUS
THAN THE CROWN OF KAI-KHOSROU.

LO, THE SEASON OF ROSES IS AT
HAND, AND THEN IT DELIGHTS ME TO
DEFY THE LAW OF ALKORAN WITH
BUDDING GIRLS OF TULIP CHEEKS; FOR
A MEASURE OF FIVE DAYS MY CUPS
SHALL CONVERT THE GREEN GRASS
INTO BEDS OF TULIPS.

BEAR GREETING FROM ME TO MUS-
TAPHA, AND THEN WITH ALL RESPECT
ENQUIRE THUS, "WHY, O LORD ALL-
WISE, DOES ALKORAN MAKE THE
SOUR SALTED CURDS AND WATER
LAWFUL, AND PURE WINE UNLAW-
FUL?"

O THOU THAT TURNEST DAY AND
NIGHT TO LUST AFTER THE WORLD,
DOST THOU NOT THINK UPON THE
HEAVY DAY? LOOK TO THYSELF AND
TO THY LATEST BREATH, AND TO THE
END THAT THOU MUST SHARE WITH
OTHERS.

WE MADE THE MOUTH OF A JAR
OUR PLACE OF PRAYER, THE RUBY
WINE MADE US SEEM TRULY MEN; IT
IS BETTER TO BE IN THE STREET OF
THE TAVERN, THAN TO LEAVE LIFE
TO WITHER IN THE MOSQUE.

MAKE THE CONDITIONS OF THIS
WORLD EASY UNTO MY HEART, AND
MAKE MY EVIL ACTIONS SECRET FROM
CREATION. GIVE ME TO-DAY MY
PLEASURE, AND TO-MORROW INFLICT
ON ME WHATEVER THY LIBERALITY
DEEMS MEET.

NOW THAT THE BROWN BIRD TELLS
HIS TALE, HIS TALE, THINK OF RED
WINE IN THE HANDS OF TOPERS, TOPERS.
ARISE, APPROACH, FOR THE ROSE EX-
PANDS IN GLADNESS, FOR TWO OR
THREE DAYS TRY PAINS AVENGE,
AVENGE.

WE ARE THE KEYS OF THE SCHEME
OF EXISTENCE, WE TO WISE EYES ARE
THE VERY ESSENCE OF DIVINITY. IS
NOT THE HOOP OF THE WORLD LIKE
UNTO A RING, AND ARE NOT WE
THE WROUGHT GEMS THEREOF?

IF I FEED IN FAMINE-HUNTED RA-
MAZAN, IT IS NOT THROUGH FORGET-
FULNESS, BUT BECAUSE THE CLINGING
FASTS HAVE CHANGED MY DAYS TO
NIGHTS, AND DELUDED ME INTO BE-
LIEVING THAT I ATE THE MORNING
MEAL.

WHILE I SEARCHED THE PAGES OF
THE BOOK OF LOVE, A WISE MAN
LIFTED UP HIS VOICE AND SAID,
“HAPPY IS HE WHO HOLDS IN HIS
HOUSE A GIRL MORE LOVELY THAN
THE MOON, AND DREAMS OF A NIGHT-
TIME LONGER THAN A YEAR."

IF THOU CANST UNDERSTAND THE
CIRCUIT OF THIS WHEEL, THOU MUST
PERCEIVE TWO KINDS OF MEN, THOSE
KNOWING GOOD AND EVIL, AND THOSE
THAT KNOW NEITHER THEMSELVES NOR
AUGHT ELSE.

O FRIEND, ABIDE TRANQUIL IN THY
DAY, NOR GRIEVE FOR FLEETING TIME
IN VAIN, WHEN THE GARB OF LIFE IS
RENT, IT MATTERS LITTLE WHAT THOU
HAST DONE, WHAT THOU HAST SAID,
AND IN WHAT WAY THOU HAST BEEN
STAINED.

WHENEVER ON THIS GREEN EARTH
WE ARE AFFECTED BY JOY, LIKE
UNTO THE GREEN STEED OF THE SKY,
THEN WITH GREEN YOUTH I EAT
GREEN HASHISH ON THE GREEN SWARD
UNTIL I LIE BELOW THE GREEN OF
THE EARTH.

O THOU, THE QUINTESSENCE OF THE
SUM OF EXISTENCE, CEASE A MOMENT
TO THINK UPON EVIL GAIN, TAKE ONE
CUP OF WINE FROM THE ETERNAL
SAKI, AND SET THYSELF FREE FROM
THE CARES OF BOTH WORLDS.

ARISE, ARISE FROM THY PLACE OF
SLEEP, O CUP-BEARER, GIVE US, O
GIVE US CLEAR WINE, O CUP-BEARER,
ERE YET THE CUPS OF OUR HEADS
ARE MADE INTO FLAGONS, POUR FROM
THY FLAGON INTO OUR CUP, O CUP-
BEARER.

TO THE WISE READER IN THE BOOK
OF LIFE, JOY, SORROW, WEAL, AND
WOE ARE ALL ALIKE. SINCE GOOD
AND ILL ALIKE MUST HAVE THEIR
END, IT MATTERS LITTLE WHETHER
OUR PORTION BE GOOD OR EVIL.

CEASE BABBLING OF THE KORAN,
CUP BEARER, GIVE ME FREE QUARTERS
AT THE WINE HOUSE, O CUP-BEARER;
THE NIGHT OF THOSE FREE QUARTERS
IN THE INN SHALL BE MY NIGHT OF
NIGHTS, O CUP-BEARER.

KNOW YOU WHY AT THE HOUR OF
THE DAWNING THE COCK SHRILLS
HIS FREQUENT CLARION? IT IS BUT
TO REMIND YOU BY THE MIRROR OF
MORNING, THAT FROM YOUR EXISTENCE
A NIGHT HAS SLIPPED, AND YOU ARE
STILL IGNORANT.

ART WISE ENOUGH TO LEARN IN
LITTLE THE TRUTH OF MAN? A MISER-
ABLE BEING MOULDED FROM THE MUD
OF SORROW. A LITTLE WHILE HE
EATS UPON THIS EARTH, THEN LIFTS
HIS FOOT TO WANDER HENCE.

NEVER WITH CHEER A DROP OF
WATER DO WE CONSUME, BUT FROM
THE HAND OF SORROW WE CONSUME
WINE. WE NEVER DIP A BIT OF BREAD
IN SALT, BUT WE CONSUME OUR OWN
VITALS.

LORD, FREE ME FROM THIS PUZZLE
OF THE MORE AND LESS. ABSORB ME
IN THEE AND FREE ME FROM MYSELF.
WHILE I CAN REASON I KNOW GOOD
AND EVIL: INTOXICATE ME, AND FREE
ME FROM KNOWLEDGE OF GOOD AND
EVIL.

OH LORD, HAVE MERCY ON MY CAPT-
IVE HEART, HAVE MERCY ON MY
SORROW-LADEN BREAST, HAVE MERCY
ON MY TAVERN-TURNING FOOT, AND
ON MY HAND THAT CATCHES AT THE
CUP.

I AM WHAT THY POWER FASHIONED.
I HAVE LIVED A HUNDRED YEARS RICH
IN THY GIFTS AND GRACE. I WOULD
FAIN LIVE YET ONE HUNDRED YEARS
OF SIN AND SEE IN THE END IF THE
SUM OF MY FAULTS OR THY PITY BE
THE GREATER.

SAY, WHAT MAN ON EARTH HAS
NEVER SINNED? SAY, WHO COULD LIVE
AND NEVER SIN? IF, THEREFORE, BE-
CAUSE I DO ILL YOU PUNISH ME BY
ILL, SAY, THEN, WHERE IS THE DIF-
FERENCE BETWEEN THEE AND ME?

JUSTICE IS THE SOUL OF THE WORLD,
AND THE WORLD IS A BODY. THE
ANGELS ARE ITS SENSES, THE SKIES
ITS ELEMENTS, HUMANITY ITS LIMBS.
THIS IS THE ETERNAL UNITY, ALL
ELSE IS DELUSION.

THE CARES OF THIS WORLD ARE
NOT WORTH ONE BARLEYCORN. WE
ARE HAPPY. IF WE BREAKFAST WE
DO NOT DINE. WE ARE HAPPY.
NAUGHT COOKED COMES TO US FROM
THE KITCHEN. WE BESEECH NO ONE.
WE ARE HAPPY.

MY POOR HEART, SYMPATHETIC AND
DISTRAUGHT, IS DEEPLY DROWNED IN
THE LOVE OF MY WELL-BELOVED. THE
DAY THE WINE OF LOVE WAS POURED,
MY SHARE WAS DRAWN FROM THE
BLOOD OF MY HEART.

THEY Bid ME DRINK LESS WINE, AND
WONDER WHY I WILL NOT RENOUNCE.
WHY, BECAUSE THE FACE OF MY
FRIEND IS THE MORNING WINE. COULD
THERE BE A BETTER REASON?

O THOU WHOSE LIP IS WET WITH
THE WATER OF LIFE, DO NOT LET
THE LIP OF THE CUP COME NIGH.
MAY I LOSE MY NAME IF I DO NOT
SLAKE MY VENGEANCE IN THE BLOOD
OF THE CUP THAT DARES TO LAY ITS
LIPS TO THINE.

TAKE CUP AND FLAGON IN THY
HANDS, BELOVED, LET US HASTEN TO
THE FIELDS AND STREAMS, FOR MANY
MAIDENS LOVELY AS THE MOON HAVE
BEEN TURNED AT LAST INTO CUPS AND
FLAGONS.

DO NOT RIOT IN THE TAVERN;
ABIDE THERE WITHOUT BRAWLING.
SELL YOUR TURBAN, SELL YOUR
KORAN TO BUY WINE, THEN HURRY
PAST THE MOSQUE WITHOUT GOING IN.

NEVER WOUND WITH SORROW A
JOYOUS HEART, NOR BREAK WITH THE
STONES OF TORMENT ONE MOMENT
OF DELIGHT. SINCE NONE CAN SAY
WHAT IS TO COME, OUR NEEDS ARE
WINE, A BELOVED, AND DESIREFUL
EASE.

SOME MEDITATE OF RELIGIONS AND
BELIEFS, SOME SWAY BEWILDERED BE-
TWIXT DOUBT AND KNOWLEDGE.
SUDDENLY THE WATCHER CRIES,
"FOOLS, YOUR ROAD IS NOT HERE
NOR THERE."

WHERE ARE RUBY LIPS, JEWELS OF
YOUTH? WHERE IS THE SCENTED
WINE THAT SOOTHES THE SOUL? IT
IS FORBIDDEN BY THE MOSLEM CREED.
DRINK, FOR WHERE IS THE MOSLEM
CREED?

O EVIL-DOER, NEVER DOING GOOD,
WHO SEEK SHELTER WITH DIVINITY,
BEWARE OF TRUSTING TO BE PARDONED,
FOR THE NOTHING-DOER RESEMBLES
NOT THE DOER ANY MORE THAN THE
DOER REPRESENTS THE NOTHING-DOER.

BEST TO DWELL IN JOY ALONE, BEST
TO TAKE THE CUP FROM THE FINGERS
OF THE MOST FAIR, BEST THE INTOXI-
CATION OF THE KALENDARS, BEST IS
WINE OF ALL THAT LIES BETWEEN THE
MOON AND THE EARTH.

THE HEAVEN IS A BOWL INVERTED
OVER OUR HEADS. THE WISE ARE
SHAMED AND FEEBLE, BUT THE CUP
AND JAR ARE FAST FRIENDS. THEY
ARE LIP TO LIP THOUGH BLOOD FLOWS
BETWEEN THEM.

THE DROP OF WATER SORROWED
TO BE SUNDERED FROM THE OCEAN.
OCEAN SMILING SAID, "WE ARE ALL
IN ALL, GOD IS WITHIN AND AROUND
US, AND WE ARE DIVIDED BUT BY
AN IMPERCEPTIBLE POINT.

OH, WOULD THAT THERE WERE A
PLACE TO REST, THAT BY THIS ROAD
WE MIGHT ARRIVE; OH, THAT AFTER
A HUNDRED THOUSAND YEARS WE
MIGHT ARISE ANEW FROM THE HEART
OF THE EARTH LIKE THE GREEN
GRASSES.

WEEP NOT FOR THIS BUSTLING
WORLD, CALL FOR WINE AND FOR
YOUR DEAR, FOR THAT FROM WHICH
MAN DROPPED TO-DAY, HE SEEKS TO
ENTER AGAIN TO-MORROW.

KNOW THYSELF IF THOU ART WISE,
AND SEE WHAT THOU HAST BROUGHT
WITH THEE, AND WHAT THOU WILT
TAKE AWAY. YOU WILL NOT DRINK
FORSOOTH BECAUS E YOU MUST DIE.
WHY, WHETHER YOU DRINK OR NO,
YOU MUST DIE.

LET NOT THE WEIGHT OF THE
WORLD OPPRESS YOU, DO NOT VEX
YOUR SOUL WITH THE THOUGHT OF
THOSE WHO HAVE PASSED AWAY, YIELD
NOT YOUR HEART SAVE TO THE
FAIREST OF THE FAIR, NEVER LACK
GOOD WINE NOR CAST YOUR LIFE TO
THE WIND.

WHEN EVER YOU CAN GET TWO
MEASURES OF WINE, DRINK, WHERE-
EVER YOU MAY BE, FOR HE WHO
ACTS THUS IS FREE FROM THY SCORN
OR MY SCORN.

THEY BID YOU DRINK NO WINE UN-
DER PENALTY OF FIERY PAINS ON THE
DAY OF RECKONING. NEVERTHELESS,
THE MOMENT IN WHICH WINE MAKES
YOU HAPPY IS BETTER THAN THE RE-
WARDS OF THIS WORLD OR THE NEXT.

ALAS, FATE WILL NOT LET ME
LIVE ANIGH THEE, YET I CANNOT
BEAR TO LIVE A HAIR'S BREADTH
APART FROM THEE. I DARE NOT
SHARE MY WOES WITH ANYONE. OH,
HARD LOT, STRANGE SORROW, FAIR
PASSION.

IF YOU DELIGHT IN DARKENING
THE FREE HEART, WEAR MOURNING
FOR YOUR WITS YOUR WHOLE LIFE
LONG, AND BE ACCURSED FOR THE
FOOL YOU ARE.

I WOULD THAT GOD REBUILT THE
WORLD ANEW, AND THAT I MIGHT SEE
THE WORK BEGUN. I WOULD THAT
GOD BLOTTED MY NAME FROM THE
ROLL OF LIFE, OR OF HIS BOUNTY
MADE LIFE SEEM MORE FAIR.

GIVE ME A FLAGON OF RED WINE,
A BOOK OF VERSES, A LOAF OF BREAD,
AND A LITTLE IDLENESS. IF WITH
SUCH STORE I MIGHT SIT BY THY DEAR
SIDE IN SOME LONELY PLACE, I SHOULD
DEEM MYSELF HAPPIER THAN A KING
IN HIS KINGDOM.

WE TRUST IN DIVINE GOODNESS
WHICH DELIVERS US FROM SIN AND
DUTY, FOR WHERE THY LOVING KIND-
NESS IS, HE WHO DOES NOT, AND HE
WHO DOES ARE EQUAL.

BE RESIGNED TO SORROW IF YOU
WISH TO ESCAPE IT, DO NOT COMPLAIN
OF YOUR HURTS IF YOU WOULD HAVE
THEM HEALED. IF YOU WOULD FAIN
TASTE THE JOYS OF RICHES, THEN
THANK PROVIDENCE FOR YOUR POVERTY.

THE FLOWERS ARE FULL IN BLOSSOM,
O CUP-BEARER; BRING WINE AND QUIT
YOUR PRAYERS, O CUP-BEARER; ERE
YET DEATH'S ANGEL RISES UPAGAINST
US, COME CUP IN HAND, AND BE HAPPY
AWHILE WITH THE BELOVED, O CUP-
BEARER.

DRINK WINE, DEAR FRIEND, AND
DELIGHT IN YOUR BELOVED, GIVE
SMUG HYPOCRISY THE GO-BY. DO YOU
FOLLOW THE LAW OF MAHOMMED,
THEN TAKE A CUP OF WINE FROM THE
BOWL WHEN ALI PLAYS THE CUP-
BEARER.

IN THE KITCHEN OF LIFE, YOU
SAVOUR ONLY THE SMOKE. HOW LONG
WILL YOU STUDY IN SORROW THE
PROBLEM OF BEING AND NOT BEING?
THIS WORLD IS LOSS TO THOSE THAT
CLING TO IT. CAST IT ADRIFT, AND
LO! THE LOSS IS GAIN.

OH, THOU WHOSE ESSENCE IS UN-
KNOWABLE TO MIND, THOU WHO
HEEDEST NEITHER OUR FAULTS NOR
OUR VIRTUES, I AM DRUNK WITH SINS,
BUT MY TRUST IN THEE MAKES ME
SOBER, I COUNT UPON THY CLEMENCY.

THOUGH WE HAVE NO WISH TO VEX
MEN IN THEIR SLEEP, TO SHOCK THE
NIGHT WITH THEIR DESPAIRING CRIES,
STILL DO NOT PRIDE YOURSELF EITHER
ON YOUR WEALTH OR YOUR COMELI-
NESS, FOR A SINGLE NIGHT MAY SWEEP
THEM BOTH AWAY.

IF FROM THE FIRST YOU MADE ME
KNOW MYSELF, WHY AFTER WOULD
YOU SUNDER ME FROM MYSELF? IF
FROM THE FIRST IT WAS YOUR PUR-
POSE TO ABANDON ME, WHY DID YOU
FLING ME HELPLESS INTO THE MIDDLE
OF THIS WORLD?

IF THE WAYS OF THE WORLD WERE
BUT BASED ON IMITATION, ALL DAYS
WOULD BE HOLIDAYS. WERE IT NOT
FOR THOSE VAIN THREATENINGS,
EVERYONE MIGHT LIVE LIFE TO HIS
OWN LIKING.

HEART, MY HEART, IF YOU FREE
YOURSELF FROM EARTHLY CARES, YOU
WILL BECOME PURE SOUL AND SCALE
THE SKIES. THEN WHAT A SHAME
AND SORROW TO HAVE DWELT ON
EARTH!

O POTTER, HAVE A CARE IF YOU
ARE WISE, HOW LONG WILL YOU
DEGRADE THE CLAY OF MAN? IT IS
THE FINGER OF FERIDOUN, IT IS THE
HAND OF KAI KHOSROU, THAT YOU
PLACE UPON THE WHEEL. WHAT ARE
YOU THINKING OF?

IF IN THIS LIFE YOU FEASTED FULL,
WHAT THEN? SUPPOSE THE LATEST
OF YOUR DAYS HAS COME, WHAT THEN?
IF YOU HAVE LIVED A HUNDRED HAPPY
YEARS AND HAVE YET A HUNDRED
YEARS TO LIVE, WHAT THEN?

KNOWEST THOU WHY THE LILY AND
THE CYPRESS HAVE SUCH FAIR RENOWN
WITH MEN? BECAUSE THE ONE, WITH
TEN TONGUES, IS SILENT; BECAUSE THE
OTHER WITH A HUNDRED HANDS, KEEPS
THEM FROM PICKING AND STEALING.

BEHOLD IN THE ZEPHYR THE ROBE
OF THE ROSE EXPANDING, THE NIGHTIN-
GALE DELIGHTING IN THE BEAUTY OF
THE ROSE; SIT IN THE SHADE OF
THE ROSE, FOR MANY TIMES THIS
ROSE FROM EARTH HAS COME, AND
UNTO EARTH HAS GONE.

WOE'S ME FOR WASTED LIFE, FOR
PROHIBITED PLEASURES, AND CONTAMI-
NATED BODIES. MY FACE IS BLACKENED
FOR NOT HAVING DONE WHAT THOU
HAST ORDERED. HOW THEN IF I HAD
DONE WHAT THOU HAST NOT ORDERED?

HOW LONG SHALL I VEX ME WITH
THE HAVE OR HAVE NOT, WITH WON-
DERING IF I SHOULD OR SHOULD NOT
PASS LIFE PLEASANTLY? NAY, FILL
THE CUP, MY CUP BEARER, FOR IN
TRUTH I KNOW NOT IF I SHALL BREATHE
OUT THE BREATH I NOW BREATHE IN.

IN THIS HOUSE OF LIFE, PHILOSOPHER,
DRINK RED WINE, SO EVERY ATOM OF
THY DUST WHICH THE WIND YET SHALL
CARRY, WILL FALL STEEPED IN WINE,
ON THE THRESHOLD OF THE TAVERN.