Remains of a tavern

To the abandoned remains of a

Drinking house they set out at dark

Traces of wine pouches dragged along its soil

And bouquets of basil, some moist, some parched

I shut my friends inside, that they’d reunite

And I was among them from the start

And it was like I’d never known them

Back in east Sabat’s remotest parts^[1]A Persian city

We spent a day, then another, then a third

And not till the fifth did we depart

Wine circulated in gilded cups

Adorned with colourful Persian art

On the base a Khosrau^[2]A Persian king, and on the sides

An oryx speared by horsemen’s darts

Wine was poured up to their pockets

Followed by water to their hats’ marks