1. In my purse I have comfort for what the cup contained,
And in parchment, for what the tray gathered.

2. With the new wine my love is unshackled,
Its mischief in people’s hearts a sly sneak.

3. An intoxicant it has no delusions in the head,
It overcomes souls without qualms in the chest.

4. It does not task a soul beyond its strength,
Nor does harm or bankruptcy with it one fear.

5. How many a wine its drinker fears punishment,
And a wine that its pourer has no affliction.

6. We pass the night tippling it if we so fancy,
For at the door we’ve guards and watchmen.

7. The inkpot is attended and restocked for it,
Nearby and its cups are fingers and paper.