DRINK to-day, and drown all sorrow,
You shall perhaps not do it tomorrow.
Best, while you have it, use your breath;
There is no drinking after death.
Wine works the heart up, wakes the wit;
There is no cure 'gainst age but it.
It helps the headache, cough, and tisic,
And is for all diseases physic.
Then let us swill, boys, for our health;
Who drinks well, loves the commmonwealth.
And he that will to bed go sober,
Falls with the leaf still in October.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem