Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/376

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O thou who for thy pleasure dost impart A pang of sorrow to thy fellow's heart, Go! mourn, thy perished wit, and peace of mind, Thyself hast slain them, like the fool thou art!

Wherever you can get two maunds of wine, Set to, and drink it like a libertine; Whoso acts thus will set his spirit free From saintly airs like yours, and grief like mine.

So long as I possess two maunds of wine, Bread of the flower of wheat, and mutton chine, And you, O Tulip cheeks, to share my hut, Not every Sultan's lot can vie with mine.