Old Khayyam, say you, is a debauchee
If only you were half so good as he
He sins no sins but gentle drunkenness
Great-hearted mirth and kind adultery
But yours the cold heart, and the murderous tongue
The wintry soul that hates to hear a song
The close-shut fist, the mean and measuring eye
And all the little poisoned ways of wrong
translated by Richard Le Galliene, from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
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