Wine, Love, and the Reckless Heart

Rise, cupbearer, and wake me, pour me a drink and pour for my drinking companions. Let me stay awake through my night, and leave the rest of the world to sleep. Pour for me while the roaring thunder makes the clouds weep, and the lips of the flowers part into a smile from laughter. In a season when the birds trill their soft melodies upon the branches, and the time when the rose lifts the veil from its face. You who think yourself wise, shame on the seeing man who pretends to be blind. So seize your chance before time turns you to ruins. Tell the one who mocked lovers as fools and blamed them: you have never known love, far from it, nor tasted its passion. Whoever lets the moment of opportunity pass out of stinginess or worry has wasted his whole life, whether he lived a day or fifty years. Do not blame me for a boy who left my heart sick with longing. Since the dawn of love, how many a master has become a slave. The utmost wish of my heart is a graceful youth who pours the wine, while over the green meadow lie scattered stock, myrtle, and lavender. With such coquetry that he steals the heart whenever he speaks, and a beauty that outdoes the swaying branch when his figure bends. My reproacher, my patience is spent, how long and until when? I care nothing for your scolding, nor do I fear your blame. Love has made sleep forbidden to my eyes, and the ropes of longing surround me, behind and before. The wise man is untroubled by fools when they pass by as noble ones, but if a fool addresses me, I simply say: peace.