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 departs 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 unknown 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 cannot 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 endeavours all my wit, and lo! I learn that th emoon is but a pallid wheel beside thy beauty, that the cypress, by thy 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 teh 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-knowledge
Rise and come hither, and for mine heart's ease solve at least 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 threshold
Since no man dares play prophet for tomorrow, hasten to lift thy heavy laden heart. Drain, O delightful 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 grabed in shame; for when we are wise and wide-awak sorrow assaults us from all quarters, but no sooner are we drunk than we laugh at fortune
In Heaven's name, why does teh 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, repentance from the flagon, and from the bowl brimming over, repentance. Yet now that the season of roses has come set me free in the time of the rose from repentance, 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 forever
O Khayyam, why so much mourning for your sin? What consolation can you find in thus plaguing yourself? He who has never sinned can never taste the sweet of forgiveness. 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 theis secret, too, should be so short
I myself will pour 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 command 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 wit. 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 bobbers, for I would liefer renounce Heaven than renounce 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 may 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 wish to drink so deep, so deep of wine that its fragrance may hang about the soil where I shall sleep, and that revealers, 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 kingdom of the presence, bind to thyself 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 purpose and thy pleasure from the beginning of things. And thou too, O Earth, if we but digger 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 together 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 dow we drink with delight one drop of clear water without at the same time draining the bowl of bitter wine from the hand of sorrow. Never do we sharpen the savor of bread with the savor 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 infidel.
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 yourself 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 quicksilver. Arise, my beloved, for the favor of fortune is but a cheating 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 way 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, revolves more helpless than thyself along the highway of the heavenly love.
I have flown like a sparrow-hawk forth from this world of mysteries, in the hope of reaching 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 of my heart I drink myself 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 halting places, hasten to drink thy fill of wine; for be sure of this, thou wilt never regain thy lost hours, and since thou knowest the 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 brief; and of those who have gone hence, not one will e'er return.
Yes, 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 worldly 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, give 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 faces of the roses, and cover them as with a veil. The desire of drink is still unquenched 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.
Oh Thou who knowest man's most hidden thoughts, Thou who upholds 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, "Alas, 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. Therefore, 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 they day brings with it a consciousness of youth, I mean to wile it away with wine even to my heart's delight. Do not blaspheme, on account of its bitterness, this glorious juice, for it is a delight to drink, and bitter only because it is my life.
O, my sad 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 our fellows rings fair only from afar
Oh, my heart, since this world grieves 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 the very dust.
Although this wine in its essence 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 disappear.
I see no smoke arise from the fire of my sins; I expect a fairer fate from no man. If the injustice 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 fantastic 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 commands of wine, joyously we offer our souls in sacrifice to the smiling stream of the holy 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 beneath 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 thou pray, seeing 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 with 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 my life.
Thank God, the hour of roses has arrived. From my heart I delight in the thought of breaking 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 spilt 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 no heedlessly beat at every portal. We must learn to take the good with the bad in this life, for we can only play the fame 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 vagaries of this world, nor of the things that yet may be. Look upon this present hour as plunder from destiny. Vex not thyself 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 therefor 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, counseling me, "Drink, friend, drink wine, for many lives will follow yours during your long sleep."
These travelers have departed, and of them all, not one has returned 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 favourable 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? Because I weary of my way of life.
Thou hast planted in our hearts an irresistible desire, and at the same time Thou has forbidden us to satisfy it. In what a strait dost thou find thyself, oh, unhappy man, between this law of thy nature, and this commandment? 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 without thee go and make my prayer unto Heaven. This, truly, O Creator of all things present and to come, is my religion; whether Thou fastest 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 skillful ruses that the human mind can scheme, but Fate has always overturned my projects.
If a stranger serves you faithfully, 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 itself in verdure, when the blossoms 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 gaining 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 unknown 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, drunkenness 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 intoxication. Ah, 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 wither 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?
It 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 soul has been resuscitated by the breath of Jesus, eternal death has fled afar fro 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 vexation.
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 tranquility 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 beholds 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 the 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 workshop 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. I have neither faith nor wealth, nor hope of paradise.
Yesterday, passing drunken before 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 renews 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 fax, 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, ah, you are a hundred times more dear.
How fair are the green fringes of the living stream. Surely they sprang once fro 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!
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 empty 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 gratification, 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 bobbers of wine, why heaven would be, from to-morrow morn, as empty as the hollow of my hand.
If you have drunk wine faithfully all the week, do not hold your hand on the Sabbath; for, by our holy faith, there is no difference between that day and another. Be thou the worshipper of the All-High and not a worshipper of the days of the week.
Dear my God, You are merciful, and mercy is pity. Why then has the greatest sinner ben 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 cup 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 alternating home of light and night, is but the fag end of a feast of a hundred such lords as Jamshid. It is but a tomb serving as a pillow for the sleep of a hundred such kings as Bahram.
If this rose is not our portion do not the thorns remain? If the light does not reach us, does not the fire remain? If we have 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 honor 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 singing.
O Wheel of Heaven, heedless of bread and salt, you leave me ever naked as a fish. The wheel of the weaver wealth 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 fleeting 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 morning'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 reputation, have I not my shame? Lo, the cup brimmed with a crimson 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 mont of Ramazan has come, the time of the wine is over. Yes, the days of that delicious drink and of our easy life have 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 according 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 without hope, in which I am like unto the idolaters 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 delight in?
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 endure 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 your life, 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 favorites; 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 loudest over the lords of the earth, dost thou know the days when wine delighteth the heart? THey are in good sooth the Monday, the Tuesday, the Wednesday, the Thursday, the Friday, the Saturday, 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 fleet from thee thus. Trouble not thyself, therefore, 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 master?" and he made answer to me, "Drink wine, my brother, for this world is but a breath of wind."
A love-lorn nightingale, straying 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 vanished life."
He who has laid the foundations of the earth, of the wheel of the heavens, what wounds has He not hollowed out in the unhappy 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 nothingness. When the sultan quits his pavilion, the fatal ferrash 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 sin nest, 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 furnished with all things, that it is adorned sumptuously; and pass thy life joyfully in this distracted sphere. Say to thyself that thou resets 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, worthless 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 mankind 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 here 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 perfect 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 gushing 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-colored. 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 of 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 color 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 offenses 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 repenteth.
Oh, my soul, thou and I together 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 coming, our stay, nor our departure.
I am 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 trees 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 contemporaries 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 anyone the reason of my coming or going.
All hidden things are known to the Eternal Wisdom, who numbereth every hair of our head, and hath fashioned all our members. 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 behold 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 thereof, 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 wonderfully rounded when one has come to the sixtieth.
Never despair, for all thy sins, of the divine mercy of the Merciful 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 concord 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 revolving course displeases me. Set me free, therefore, for I am unworthy of thy yoke. If thy purpose always holds to grant thy favors 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 forbidden.
Since, of all thy past delights, there remaineth to thee only the memory, since the only faithful friend remaining to thee is the wine cup, since in truth it is thy only possession, rejoice therefore 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 topmost 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 revealers, 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 sanguinary.
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.
How long will you remain the dupe of this world's delicate dyes and odours? When 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, enchanting cup-bearer, bring me the liquor joyfully, since I must become 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 yourself, 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 wisdom enough to hide myself forever from this world, or understanding 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 th eliding juice of the vine, and the company of the fair. And since it was by water that this world of nothingness was brought to destruction, 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 delightful 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 the beloved of all generous men. Since thou knowest 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 distinct 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-slender 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 anyone 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 amazement.
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 yourself 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 listened 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 inexperienced 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 Eternal 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?
Those mighty and pompous lords, so orgulous in their estates, are so devoured by care and sorrow that life is become a bitter burthen. Yet, marvelous to note, they will not hail with the name of man those who are not, as they are, the slave 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 inspire 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 hundred 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 ignorance 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 vouchsafed to me, I have no fear for my iniquities; since Thou possesses 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 nightingale 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 measure. 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 scattered 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 forswear the juice of the vine, for wine contains all the virtue of the very water of life. If anyone will renounce his wine during the month of Ramazan, let him at least also renounce the recitation 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 beloved is gracious, the hour is fair and favouring. If I hasten not to rejoice in this moment, when shall I know joy and gladness?
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 scornful 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 thou must keep silence. Though thou hast ears, eyes, and tongue, thou must be as if thou hadst them not.
Drink your wine in the fellowship 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 himself in any nest, he who is neither the master, nor 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 of 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 present 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 imperfection 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? Forgive, 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 themselves 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, far, from Thee.
Alas, my heart can find no comfort, my soul is on the point of escaping from my lips, without 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 daybreak 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-twoo years I have thought thereon, by day and night, but I have learned nothing, and the enigma remaineth unsolved.
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 clamor 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 ablutions 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 of 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, O 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 th conditions 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 judgment?
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 disparaging the walker in the perfect way.
Thou shoulds 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 latest the lures Thyself, and then gives over Thy victim to doom.
Enjoy thy life while it remaineth 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 the 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 scandal 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 understand 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 accompaniment 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 scattered 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 frequenter 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 carpenter.
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 drunkenness 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 sweeps 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 antidote."
THou who hast burned, who bur nest, who deserves 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; wherefore 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 become 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, beloved, sing your song, and drink your wine, for the long array of months has overthrown a thousand 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 depart 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 caresses 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 hypocrisy, O cup-bearer: up, and hither with the wine, O cup-bearer; to buy it, sell the prayer-cloth and the sacred turban, for wine is the end of all my argument.
O heart, when thou sit test 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 neighbor. If thou doest this, I myself promise 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 already 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 cal lest 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 renunciation, O cup-bearer. How long wilt thou tell the tales of old, O 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 sessions 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 in one hand, and the wine-cup in the other, and behold we are lured now to the lawful, now to the unlawful 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 kalendars, 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 has stamped us with a strange seal, Thou has 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 heaven 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 departed, 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 cheerful 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 onlooker? A garden, a wine-jar, and a lute are better than Paradise with its streams and houris.
I saw a hermit in a desert place. He was neither neurotic 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 reputation: 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 bobbers, 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 it. "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 vessel 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 ringdove on its battlements, resting and crying, "Coo, coo, 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 entrance 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 barley-corns. Do you know where you go after death? Give me some wine and go where you please.
Flee from the lessons of learning 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 moment 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 jasmine 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 revealers, follow, my friend, the wisdom 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 some one 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 favors 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 lovelier 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 cal lest 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 welcome 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 nothing 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, 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. Methought the cup protested unto me, "I was like thee, thou wilt be like to me."
Bear greeting from me to Khayyam and then say, "Oh, inexperienced 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 possesses a loaf of wheaten bread, two measures of wine, and a pice 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 wise-acres, 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 it at hand, and then it delights me to defy the law of Alkoran with budding girls of tulilp-checks; for a measure of five days my cups shall convert the green grass into beds of tulips.
Bear greeting from me to Mustapha, 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 unlawful?"
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 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 expands in gladness, for two or three days thy 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 Ramazan, it is not through forgetfulness, but because the clinging fasts have changed my days to nights, and deluded me into believing 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 or 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 say, 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 miserable 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 captive 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, because I do ill You punish me by ill, say, then, where is the difference 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 barley-corn. 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 night. 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 a desireful ease.
Some meditate of religions and beliefs, some sway bewildered betwixt 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 no 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 intoxication 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 and 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 because 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.
Whenever 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 under penalty of fiery pains on the day of reckoning. Nevertheless, the moment in which wine makes you happy is better than the rewards of this world or the next.
Alas, Fate will not let me live alight 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 kindness 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 up against 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 no 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 unknowable 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 comeliness, 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 purpose 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 nightingale 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 contaminated 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 wondering 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.