Obeyd Zakani

O heart, no longer grieve over the sorrows of the age; hold no habit of greed, and wear no robe of vain honor.

Claim a corner in the alley of poverty; a road lies ahead, so gather provisions.

The world is neither our station nor our resting place; the wise are better off lost and intoxicated within it. Douse the fire of grief with wine, before you go to dust with nothing in hand.