Would that the tavern could always be animated by the presence of drinkers, that fire would reach the hem of the holy robe of devotees, that their monk's frock might be torn to tatters and their blue woolen garment be trampled under the feet of the drinkers. 132. How long wilt thou be a dupe to colors and perfumes? When wilt thou cease to seek out good and bad? Thou mightest be the source of Zemzem, thou mightest even be the water of life since thou wouldst not know how to escape entering the bosom of the earth. 133. Renounce not the drinking of wine if you have any, for a hundred repentances follow one such resolution. The roses scatter their blossoms, the nightingales fill the air with their song, and would it be reasonable to renounce drinking in a moment like this? 134. As long as the friend [God] will pour for me the wine which rejoices my soul, as long as the heavens have not deposited a hundred kisses upon my head and feet, whatever they may do, when the moment comes, to induce me to renounce drinking, how can I renounce it, God not having ordered me to? 135. Whoever has constancy will not renounce drinking wine, for wine has within itself the virtue of the water of life. If any one renounce it during the month of Ramazan, let him at least abstain from engagement in prayer. 136. When I am dead, smooth to the level of the soil the dust of my tomb, that I may thus be an example to other men. Then, mix with wine the earth of my body and make of it--a cover for a wine-jar. 137. O Khayyam! although the Wheel of the Heavens has, in setting up his tent, closed the door to discussions, [it is evident, nevertheless,] that the cupbearer of eternity [God] has produced, in the form of globules of wine in the cup of creation, a thousand other Khayyams like thee. 138. Give thyself to gaiety, for sorrow will be infinite. The stars will continue movement in the firmament, and the bricks which will be made of thy body will serve to construct palaces for others. 139. Pass joyously thy life, for many other travelers will file through this world; the soul will cry after the body from which it will be separated, and the head, the seat of the passions, will be trampled under the potter's feet. 140. Happy the heart of him who has passed unknown, who has not been clothed in a robe of ceremony, nor in luxurious garments, nor in stuffs of great price, who, like the _simourg_, is lifted into the skies to the place of his delight as the owl sits among the ruins of this world. 141.