Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit Of This and That endeavour and dispute; Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape Than sadden after none,… - Omar Khayyám

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.

One can no more set fire to the sea,
than convince people of the dangers of happiness - And yet, we know that though the smallest shock is fatal
to the filled up bottle, that shock will not break
the empty one.

Dawn filled the sky with roses. In the
crystal-clear air the last song of the nightingale
dies. The smell of the wine weakens. This is the moment
when fools dream of fame! How soft
is your hair, my beloved!