Ah, my beloved, fill the cup that clears
Today of past regrets and future fears;
Tomorrow? Why, tomorrow I may be,
Myself, with yesterday's sev'n thousand years.

Poet: Omar Khayyam

A book of verse, underneath the bough,
A jug of wine, a loaf of bread - and thou
Beside me singing in the wilderness -
Ah, wilderness were paradise now!

Poet: Omar Khayyam

Paraphrased from the Persian by Edward Fitzgerald

I.
WAKE! for the Sun, who scattered into flight
The Stars before him from the Field of Night,
  Drives Night along with them from Heaven, and strikes
The Sultan’s Turret with a Shaft of Light.

II....

Poet: Omar Khayyam