The world as grey or just as golden shows,
The wine as sweet or just as bitter flows,
For you as me; and you, like me, may find
Perfume or canker in the reddest rose.
The tale of life is hard to understand;
But while the cup waits ready to your hand,
Drink and declare the summer roses blow
As red in London as in Samarcand.
Lips are as sweet to kiss and eyes as bright
As ever fluttered Omar with delight;