1. A tribe gathered, kin unknown before
Bound only by drink, naught else more

2. As if it were, when served in fine array
Like a flame kindled in hearth’s release at play

3. The glass spins though hands stain it not
As if dyed by blood in slaughter pot

4. Until the mixed drink quenched all thirst
The glass stilled, colors no longer burst

5. It flows when water poured makes it seethe
Like hornets roused, ready to unsheathe

6. Until all were seized in its vice
Heads bowed as if the earth turned thrice

7. They leave believing the ground in orbit
Though fallen, sleeping where they sit

8. If one drops in its haze
They say "Rise! No harm in its craze"