Poem 149 – An English Bacchanalia

Drink from the rose-leaf, drink lily wine,
Suck at the nectar of sprawling hop vines.
Laugh at the sunlight blazing at night,
Tickle a weasel and watch the stoats fight.
Drain a whole dram of damask and silk,
Pluck plums from a poplar and pears from a beech,
Dance over daisies and things of that ilk,
But don’t go insane – that I beseech.


Dear all,

I apologise for missing my Monday post. I was caught up reading Remarque’s Im Westen Nicht Neues (Normally translated as ‘All Quiet on the Western Front’). Since it’s in German, it takes some time for me to read, but it is very beautiful, and by the time I stopped, the day was done. I hope that you enjoy this nonsense poetry anyway. Stoats are most amusing creatures.

Kind regards,

The Hapless Neo-Romantic


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