My Friend, Let's Not Think Of Tomorrow,

How Much More Of The Mosque, Of Prayer And Fasting? Better Go Drunk And Begging Round The Taverns. Khayyam, Drink Wine, For Soon This Clay Of Yours Will Make A Cup, Bowl, One Day A Jar. When Once You Hear The Roses Are In Bloom, Then Is The Time, My Love, To Pour The Wine; Houris And Palaces And Heaven And Hell- These Are But Fairy-tales, Forget Them All.

Oh Thou, Who Man Of Baser Earth Didst Make, And Ev'n With Paradise Devise The Snake; For All The Sin Wherewith The Face Of Man Is Blackened - Man's Forgiveness Give And Take!

Old Khayyám, Say You, Is A Debauchee;if Only You Were Half So Good As He!he Sins No Sins But Gentle Drunkenness,great-hearted Mirth, And Kind Adultery.but Yours The Cold Heart, And The Murderous Tongue,the Wintry Soul That Hates To Hear A Song,the Close-shut Fist, The Mean And Measuring Eye,and All The Little Poisoned Ways Of Wrong.

Fools, Your Reward Is Neither Here Nor There.

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.