The Lonelyheart’s Wine (Le Vin du Solitaire)

The arresting glance of a lady of pleasure
Like a ray of light on a mountain basin
That the rippling moon lets fall with leisure
When she wants something cool to wash her face in

The last few coins in the gambler’s clutch;
A kiss from slender Adeline
Tender music’s rousing touch
Fading like a distant cry of pain

None of this compares, oh bottomless bottle
To your bountiful belly where solaces jostle
The poet’s thirsty heart to fill

You pour out hope, youth and life,
The pride and treasure of his sacrifice,
Triumphant as a God on Olympus hill!


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