Calcutta nr. 243
There is no night that my lamentation does not reach the
And that my plaint does not reach the ocean in a torrent
You say that with you I shall drink wine on many a morrow
May be that for me the soul will not reach a tomorrow
Love of Houri-like maids in my head ever be!
In my hand may the grape-juice rose-red ever be!
God give thee repentance!" quoth they. Though He gave,
I'd not do. May it far from my stead ever be!