Give me a flagon of red wine, a book of verses, a loaf of bread, and a little idleness. If with such store I might sit by thy dear side in some lonely place, I should deem myself happier than a king in his kingdom.
Drink wine. This is life eternal. This is all that youth will give you. It is the season for wine, roses and drunken friends. Be happy for this moment. This moment is your life.
A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou.
Oh! My beloved! fill the cup, that clears to-day of past regrets and future fears.
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.
The wine-cup is the little silver well, Where truth, if truth there be, doth dwell.
I wonder what the vintners buy one half so precious as the stuff they sell.
I hide my distress, just likethe blessed birds hide themselveswhen they are preparing to die. Wine! Wine, roses, music and yourindifference to my sadness, my loved-one!
Here's to the man Who owns the land That bears the grapes That makes the wine That tastes as good As this does.
Dust into Dust, and under Dust to lie, Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and-sans End!
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