It flows into the goblet, rich and red,
A shade of sunset late, or night-time’s fire,
The wine we drink while ling’ring in our bed.
The drink that takes away frustration’s ire,
I understand not why it works so well!
I only know that it is good and sweet,
And placing goblet down, I turn to tell
you of my love, and so our lips do meet…
And, like a wine which stays inside its case,
love grows with years more deep and better still,
So that when you and I have wrinkled faces,
Our love o’erflows, we’ll never have our fill.
Drink deeply, love, this cask will never drain;
Now in our bed of love with me, remain.
