Never have we tasted in happiness a drop of water
without the hand of grief appearing to present to us its
bitter beverage. Never have we dipped a piece of bread
in salt without the salt returning to re-open half-healed
wounds of the heart.
Take care, take good care of making noise in a tavern!
Pass the time there, but avoid all agitation. Sell the
turban, sell the book [the Koran] to buy wine. Finally,
let us pass through the medresseh [school of the mosques],
but let us not stop there.
Every day, at dawn, I go to the tavern. There I give
myself to the company of kalendar hypocrites. O Thou,
who art the master of secrets most concealed, give me
faith, if Thou wishest me to apply myself to prayer.
To the cares of this world, let us not accord as much
value, even, as to a grain of barley; oh! let us be happy!
If we have something for breakfast, we may have nothing
for dinner; oh! let us be happy! Although nothing
well cooked comes to us from the kitchen, let us not address
our troublesome prayers to any one; oh! let us be
happy!
Not a single day do I feel myself free from the troublesome
bonds of this world; not for a single instant do I
breathe contented with my being. I have long served
an apprenticeship to human vicissitudes, and I have not
yet become master, either in that which concerns this
world, or in what has to do with the other.