I Came Like Water, And

So When That Angel Of The Darker Drink, At Last Shall Find You By The River-brink, And, Offering His Cup, Invite Your Soul Forth To Your Lips To Quaff-you Shall Not Shrink.

Into This Universe, And Why Not Knowing Nor Whence, Like Water Willy-nilly Flowing; And Out Of It, As Wind Along The Wate, I Know Not Whither, Willy-nilly Blowing.

Why Ponder Thus The Future To Foresee, And Jade Thy Brain To Vain Perplexity? Cast Off Thy Care, Leave Allah’s Plans To Him – He Formed Them All Without Consulting Thee.

The Wine-cup Is The Little Silver Well, Where Truth, If Truth There Be, Doth Dwell.

You Know, My Friends, With What A Brave Carouse I Made A Second Marriage In My House; Favored Old Barren Reason From My Bed, And Took The Daughter Of The Vine To Spouse.