2 Boit du vin

Quatrain II

J’entends une voix qui me dit…quand je bois du vin, je bois de vie.


Dans la tavern, une matin, je entendis
Une voix qui disait, mes doux petites,
N’attends, remplissez votre verre de vin
Et boire encore, avant que la vie soit partie

Am morgens in der Bierhalle
Eine Stimme zu mir sprach
Kinder wach auf, und mit dein Krug gefullt
Getränk des Lebens, bevor es verloren ist
(Eins, zwei und nie zu viel)

Dreaming when Dawn’s Left Hand was in the Sky
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,
“Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup
Before Life’s Liquor in its Cup be dry.”

At dawn, I heard a voice in the tavern speak
Awake, for the moments pass away
Now, fill your cup with wine and
Drink, to life before its done, l‘Chaim

To all of this I hear Walt Whitman reply,

O Me! O Life!

O Me! O life!… of the questions of these recurring;
Of the endless trains of the faithless
—of cities fill’d with the foolish;
Of myself forever reproaching myself,
(for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light—of the objects mean
—of the struggle ever renew’d;
Of the poor results of all
—of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me;
Of the empty and useless years of the rest—with the rest me intertwined;
The question, O me! so sad, recurring
—What good amid these, O me, O life?


That you are here—that life exists, and identity;
That the powerful play goes on, and you will contribute a verse.

Leaves of Grass