In this world, where each breath we breathe leads to
In this world, where each breath we breathe leads to
a new sorrow, it is better never to breathe an instant
without a cup of wine in hand. When the breath of
Aurora makes itself felt, arise and, time after time, empty
the cup, for [as I have told you] this Dawn will breathe
for long, long years when we no longer breathe.
Poem by
Omar Khayyam
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