In Cheeban Redjeb I am consecrate to Him. By right these sixty
suns to Allah and his Prophet are assigned: let Ramazan
in mercy bring the cooling cup again.
Now Ramazan has come, the vintage passed, and
pledging of the cup and simple customs are afar. Yet
full the wine pots are, and still untouched, and houris wait
for us in fond suspense.
This rolling hostelry we call the world, where light and
darkness alternate, is but the ruin of a Jamshid's entertainment
of a hundred Kings, or e'en a faint memento
of a host of hunters like to Bahram's self.
To-day when fortune's rose is burgeoning, fill high the
cup. Drink deep, O friend, drink deep, for time is not
thy friend or ever willingly repeats a day like this.
This palace where great Bahram loved to drink now
herds the young gazelle, and in it lions sleep. Where
Bahram snared the swift wild ass, the snare of Time has
in its turn snared him.