Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/288

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The world's annoys I rate not at one grain, So I eat once a day, I don't complain; And, since earth's kitchen yields no solid food, I pester no man with petitions vain.

Never from worldly toils have I been free, Never for one short moment glad to be! I served a long apprenticeship to fate, But yet of fortune gained no mastery.

One hand with Koran, one with wine-cup dight, I half incline to wrong, and half to right; The azure-marbled sky looks down on me A sorry Moslem, yet not heathen quite.