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Don'T Cry For Layla

Don't cry for Layla, don't rave about Hind!
But drink among roses a rose-red wine,
A draught that descends in the drinker's throat,
bestowing its redness on eyes and cheeks.
The wine is a ruby, the glass is a pearl,
served by the hand of a slim-fingered girl,
Who serves you the wine from her hand, and wine
from her mouth — doubly drunk, for sure, will you be.
Thus I am drunk twice, my friends only once:
a favor special, for me alone!

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7/20/2021 1:25:43 PM # 1.0.0.663