There hangs in the heavens a bull called Parwin [Pleiades], and another bull is underneath the earth. To the eyes of intelligence or those who live in certainty, I show a herd of asses placed between two beeves. 339. Some said to me: Drink less of wine. What reason have you for not giving it up? The reason that I give is first the face of my friend [God] and secondly the morning cup. Be just and tell me, Is it possible to give a more luminous reason? 340. If I possessed in the heavens the power which God exercises there, I would destroy the people of this world, and others I would make in my own way, so that man, freed [from the bonds of superstition], could attain here below the desires of his heart. 341. My poor heart, full of grief and folly, has not been able to free itself from drunkenness where passion for my well-beloved has plunged it. Oh! the day when the wine of this love was distributed, my portion was, without doubt, drawn from the blood of my heart! 342. To drink wine and seek beautiful faces is wiser than to practise hypocrisy and apparent devotion. It is evident that if there exist a Hell for lovers and drinkers, no one would wish for Paradise. 343. Scorn the words of coquettish women, but accept limpid wine from the hand of those whose mien is irreproachable. You know that all those who have made their appearance in this world are partly of one kind and partly of the other, and it is not given to any to see a single one that may come back. 344. It is not necessary to soften and disgrace a joyous heart by sorrow, to break under the stones of torment our moments of delight. As no one is able to tell what is to be, what is necessary is some wine, a beloved mistress [the Divinity], and repose according to our desires. 345. Yes, it is beautiful to enjoy good fame; it is shameful to complain of the injustice of heaven; it is better to become drunk with the juice of the grape, than to be puffed up with false devotion. 346. O God! be pitiful to my poor imprisoned heart; show pity to my bosom, susceptible to so much sorrow; pardon my feet which lead me to the tavern; pardon my hand which seizes the cup! 347. O God! deliver me from calculating, more or less, upon the things of this world; make me preoccupied with Thee, and free me from myself. While I have my sound reason good and bad are known to me; render me drunk and free me from this knowledge of good and bad. 348. This Wheel of Heaven runs after my death and thine, my friend· it conspires against my soul and thine. Come, seat thyself upon the turf, for, indeed, small time remains to us before new turf shall germinate from my dust and from thine. 349.