غزل شمارهٔ 23

Saki, on my heart bestow liquid flame with living glow; let the resurrection day dawn tremendous on my clay.

He, for one small grain of corn, cast me to the earth in scorn; pour one glass, and see me rise glorified beyond the skies.

Give to love Thy liquor, then, strong to loose the thighs of men; toss the liquor’s sediments in the beaker of the sense.

Wisdom and philosophy are a grievous load on me; heavenly guide! Stretch out Thy hand, lift my burden, let me stand.

If hot liquor proveth vain to illuminate the brain, suffer me a second chance, save me with Thy flashing glance.

Fear and hope are yet at odds in our banquet of the gods; make us all in ignorance be of the wheel of destiny!

Roses and anemones scatter at the autumn breeze; yet within our ancient bough set the new sap rising now!