If wine and music have the power
To ease the sickness of the soul,
Let Phoebis every string explore,
And Bacchus fill the sprightly bowl:
Let them their friendly aid employ
To make my Cloe's absense light,
And seek for pleasure to destroy
The sorrows of this live-long night.
But she to-morrow will return:
Venus, be thou to-morrow great;
Thy myrtles strow, thy odours burn,
And meet thy favourite nymph in state,
Kind goddess, to no other powers
Let us to-morrow's blessings own,
Thy darling Loves shall guide the hours,
And all the day be thine alone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful poem indeed. Life becomes a celebration when the lovers meet and, more so, when wine and music join hands to accentuate the romantic fervor. Thanks. And meet thy favourite nymph in state, And all the day be thine alone.