Page:Quatrains of Omar Khayyam (tr. Whinfield, 1883).djvu/286

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If so it be that I did break the fast,
Think not I meant it; no! I thought 'twas past;—
    That day more weary than a sleepless night,—
And blessed breakfast-time had come at last!


I never drank of joy's sweet cordial,
But grief's fell hand infused a drop of gall;
    Nor dipped my bread in pleasure's piquant salt,
But briny sorrow made me smart withal!


At dawn to tavern haunts I wend my way,
And with distraught Kalendars pass the day;
    O Thou! who know'st things secret, and things known,
Grant me Thy grace, that I may learn to pray!

342.   L. N.   Roza khwardan, "to avoid fasting."   In line 2, for bekhabar read bákhabar.

343.   C. L. N. A. I.   Line 4, literally, "eat a roast of my own liver."