Get up my sweetist, it is dawn.
Gently, gently sip the wine and twang the harp,
For not a soul will remain of those here,
And of those gone, none will return.
Lit.
or,
Know you why at the hour of the dawning the cock shrills
His frequent clarion? It is but to remind you
By the mirror of morning, that from your existence
Another night has slipped, and you are still ignorant.
McCarthy 1889
or,
When dawn doth silver the dark firmament,
Why shrills the bird of dawning his lament?
It is to show in dawn's bright looking-glass
How of thy careless life a night is spent.
Whinfield 1883
or,
Here we sit with wine and music in this secluded ruin;
Soul, heart, garment and cup all pawned for wine;
Heedless of any hope of redemption or fear of punishment,
Carefree of all the four elements!
Do you know why the cock crows so mournfully?
The message spelled out in the morning sky is clear;
Yet another night of your life has been spent,
And you are unaware, sleeping fool!
Karim Emami 1988
or,
For some have love, some gold, and some have fame,
But we have nothing, least of all a name,
Nothing but wine, yet ah! how much to say,
Nothing but wine--yet happy all the same.
Le Gallienne 1901
