Drink to me with your bright eyes;
let’s celebrate the fruit of vine;
God Bacchus sealed up in a vat
this tasty, noble Riesling wine.
Drink to me; let our glasses rise
and clank in praise of wine from Rhine,
lest faithful love should be forgot,
O dearest friend and wife of mine.
The years rolled by, our hair turned grey;
what might come next we cannot tell—
but Dear, we lived in harmony—
what’s more, we lived and loved quite well.
Let’s raise our glasses: come what may,
we will drink to this godsent spell,
fine memories of you and me—
before old age sends them to hell.
Comments
Hi
Very nice piece with fine rhythm. Thanks for sharing.
Good morning, Chima,
I'm so glad you read my poem, truly. Thank you, and happy holidays to you, dear poetry friend. Thanks again. Van
Lieben, jetzt gibt mir
Lovely piece... well composed, I appreciate it
Hi Ray, good poetry friend;
you and I must attend German class again, lol. Naw, I enjoy these smatterings of umlaute and other peculiarities. Thanks for liking my poem. I must translate it into German. lol. appreciate your comment, mucho, amigo. Van