O friend! be in repose amidst human vicissitudes; disturb not thyself in vain because of the march of time. When the envelope of thy being shall be torn in tatters, what matters what thou hast done, what thou hast said, or how defiled thou mayest be? 361. O thou who hast not done good, but who hast done evil, and who hast afterward sought refuge in the Divinity, guard thyself from relying upon pardon; for he who has done nothing resembles no more him who has sinned than he who has sinned resembles him who has done nothing! 362. Count upon life not longer than the sixtieth year. Place thy foot in no direction without being overcome with wine. As long as thy skull hath not been made a pitcher, go always on thy way, nor take the wine-gourd from thy shoulder or the wine-cup from thy hand. 363. This firmament is a porringer overturned upon our heads. Wise men, thereat, humble and unpresumptuous are. But see the friendship which obtains between the cup and the flask. Lip against lip are they, and twixt them ever flows the blood. 364. I have swept the sill of the tavern with my hair. Yes, I have given up reflecting upon the good and the bad in this world and the next. I saw them, like two bowls, rolling in a ditch, when I was sleeping overcome with wine, and I no more occupied myself with them than if I had seen a grain of barley rolling along. 365. The drop of water began to weep on being separated from the ocean. The ocean began to laugh, saying to it: It is we who are all; in truth, there is no other God beside us, and if we are separated, it is only by a simple point almost invisible. 366. How long shall I trouble myself with the care of knowing whether I possess or do not possess--if I ought or ought not to pass life gaily? Fill ever the cup of wine, O cupbearer! for I do not know whether I shall breathe out this breath that I am actually breathing or not. 367. Become not a prey to sorrow in this world of iniquity; recall not to thy soul the memory of those who are no longer here; give up thy heart only to a friend with sweet lips and fairy-like in form and never be deprived of wine, or throw life to the winds. 368. How long will you speak to me of the mosque, of prayer and fasting? Go rather to the tavern and intoxicate yourself, and even for that ask alms. O Khayyam! drink wine, drink; for this earth of which thou art composed will be made into cups, bowls, and pitchers. 369. So in this palace of brief being, you ought, O wise man, to give yourself up to rose-colored wine. Then each atom of your dust that the wind carries away will fall on the sill of the tavern, all saturate with wine. 370.