Fools, Your Reward Is Neither Here Nor

There Was A Door To Which I Found No Key: There Was The Veil Through Which I Might Not See.

You Know How Little While We Have To Stay, And, Once Departed, May Return No More.

Heaven Has Not Learned Of My Arrival, And My Departure Will Not In The Least Diminish It Beauty And Grandeur. I Will Sleep Underground, For Us Ephemeral Mortals, The Only Eternity Is The Moment And Drinking To The Moment Is Better Than Weeping For It.

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.

Thy Return Is As Another Sun To Heaven; A New Rose Blooming In The Garden Of The Soul.