Imitate the tulip which flowers at New-year's; take, like
her, a cup in thy hand and, if the occasion presents itself,
drink, drink of wine in happiness with some fair girl
whose cheeks are tinted with the color of this flower, for
this blue wheel [dome], like a breath of wind, can suddenly
overturn thee.
Since things are not allowed to come to pass as we desire,
to what purpose are our designs and our efforts?
We are constantly tormenting ourselves, speaking to ourselves
with sighs of regret. Ah! we have arrived too late;
too soon will it be necessary for us to depart!
Since the celestial wheel and that of destiny have never
been favorable, what matters it whether we are able to
count seven heavens or believe that there are eight?
There are [I repeat it] two days for which I need not
care; the day which has not come and that which now
is gone.
O Khayyam! why so much sorrow for a sin committed?
What comfort more or less do you find in this self-torment?
He who has not sinned cannot enjoy the sweetness
of pardon. It is for sin that pardon must exist; in
that event why entertain a fear?
No one has access to the secrets of God behind the
mysterious curtain; no one [even in mind] can penetrate
there; we have no other dwelling than the earthly
mind. Oh, regret! for this also is an enigma not less
difficult to comprehend.