Wine, No. 51

Laying truth bare, stripped of fable, Briefly as I may be able, With good reasons manifold, I will tell why man should never Copulate, but rather sever, Things that strife and hatred hold.

When one cup in fell confusion Wine with water blends, the fusion, Call it by what name you will, Is no blessing, nor deserveth Any praise, but rather serveth For the emblem of all ill.

Wine perceives the water present, And with pain exclaims, "What peasant Dared to mingle thee with me? Rise, go forth, get out, and leave me! In the same place, here to grieve me, Thou hast no just claim to be.

"Vile and shameless in thy going, Into cracks thou still art flowing, That in foul holes thou mayst lie; O'er the earth thou ought'st to wander, On the earth thy liquor squander, And at length in anguish die.

"How canst thou adorn a table? No one sings or tells a fable In thy presence dull and drear; But the guest who erst was jolly, Laughing, joking, bent on folly, Silent sits when thou art near.

"Should one drink of thee to fulness, Sound before, he takes an illness; All his bowels thou dost stir; Booms the belly, wind ariseth, Which, enclosed and pent, surpriseth With a thousand sighs the ear.

"When the stomach's so inflated, Blasts are then ejaculated From both draughts with divers sound; And that organ thus affected, All the air is soon infected By the poison breathed around."

Water thus wine's home-thrust warded: "All thy life is foul and sordid, Sunk in misery, steeped in vice; Those who drink thee lose their morals, Waste their time in sloth and quarrels, Rolling down sin's precipice.

"Thou dost teach man's tongue to stutter; He goes reeling in the gutter Who hath deigned to kiss thy lips; Hears men speak without discerning, Sees a hundred tapers burning When there are but two poor dips.

"He who feels for thee soul's hunger Is a murderer or whoremonger, Davus Geta Birria; Such are they whom thou dost nourish; With thy fame and name they flourish In the tavern's disarray.

"Thou by reason of thy badness Art confined in prison sadness, Cramped and small thy dwellings are: I am great the whole world over, Spread myself abroad and cover Every part of earth afar.

"Drink I yield to palates burning; They who for soul's health are yearning, Need the aid that I have given; Since all pilgrims, at their praying, Far or near, I am conveying To the palaces of heaven."

Wine replied: "What thou hast vaunted Proves thee full of fraud; for granted That thou earnest ships o'er sea, Yet thou then dost swell and riot; Till they wreck thou hast no quiet; Thus they are deceived through thee.

"He whose strength is insufficient Thee to slake with heat efficient, Sunk in mortal peril lies: Trusting thee the poor wretch waneth, And through thee at length attaineth To the joys of Paradise.

"I'm a god, as that true poet Naso testifies; men owe it Unto me that they are sage; When they do not drink, professors Lose their wits and lack assessors Round about the lecture-stage.

"'Tis impossible to sever Truth from falsehood if you never Learn to drink my juices neat. Thanks to me, dumb speak, deaf listen, Blind folk see, the senses glisten, And the lame man finds his feet.

"Eld through me to youth returneth, While thine influence o'erturneth All a young man's lustihead; By my force the world is laden With new births, but boy or maiden Through thy help was never bred."

Water saith: "A god thou! Just men By thy craft become unjust men, Bad, worse, worst, degenerous! Thanks to thee, their words half uttered Through the drunken lips are stuttered, And thy sage is Didymus.

"I will speak the truth out wholly: Earth bears fruit by my gift solely, And the meadows bloom in May; When it rains not, herbs and grasses Dry with drought, spring's beauty passes, Flowers and lilies fade away.

"Lo, thy crooked mother pining, On her boughs the grapes declining, Barren through the dearth of rain; Mark her tendrils lean and sterile O'er the parched earth at their peril Bent in unavailing pain!

"Famine through all lands prevaileth, Terror-struck the people waileth, When I choose to keep away; Christians kneel to Christ to gain me, Jews and Pagans to obtain me Ceaseless vows and offerings pay."

Wine saith: "To the deaf thou'rt singing, Those vain self-laudations flinging! Otherwhere thou hast been shown! Patent 'tis to all the races How impure and foul thy place is; We believe what we have known!

"Thou of things the scum and rotten Sewer, where ordures best forgotten And unmentioned still descend! Filth and garbage, stench and poison. Thou dost bear in fetid foison! Here I stop lest words offend."

Water rose, the foe invaded, In her own defence upbraided Wine for his invective base: "Now at last we've drawn the curtain! Who, what god thou art is certain From thy oracle's disgrace.

"This thine impudent oration Hurts not me; 'tis desecration To a god, and fouls his tongue! At the utmost at nine paces Can I suffer filthy places, Fling far from me dirt and dung!"

Wine saith: "This repudiation Of my well-weighed imputation Doth not clear thyself of crime! Many a man and oft who swallowed Thine infected potion, followed After death in one day's time."

Hearing this, in stupefaction Water stood; no words, no action, Now restrained her sobs of woe. Wine exclaims, "Why art thou dumb then? Without answer? Is it come then To thy complete overthrow?"

I who heard the whole contention Now declare my song's intention, And to all the world proclaim: They who mix these things shall ever Henceforth be accursed, and never In Christ's kingdom portion claim.