1. My love is fickle though I pine for her,
She severed my breath with her disdain,

2. I'm loathe to describe her for fear the folk
Should learn what ails me—no cure they contain.

3. My greatest depiction of her is to speak
Of the fate God decreed for me, set in stone.

4. Her glance kindles hope, her harsh heart consoles
With the sound of her voice my own.

5. Thus by her gaze and voice oscillate
Twixt hope and despair my days;

6. The happiest day was when I heard her speak,
Her words made all else fade.

7. For that day, as long as I draw breath
My words cannot thank enough.

8. She said, and the wine flowed free in our midst,
My drinking companions in revels lost,

9. "Can you banish sleep? For the night invites
To the wine and companionship we have crossed."

10. I said "Start pouring and keep it coming,
For I've tasted nothing yet of your draft."

11. My only aim is to gain her leftovers,
Be it the cup or the spill on her shaft.

12. But propriety, I guess, gave her pause
As that was not my intent in this farce.

13. She said "Cease your tricks to get what you wish—
My drunkenness and my sleep take their course."

14. I shrugged as though her words meant nothing,
So she'd think them no barb in my side.

15. Then the wine beckoned with mischievous glint
In the deep of the liquored night.

16. She milked the wineskin, and in the cup poured
A drink like the gleam of an oil lamp emblazed.

17. She sipped, till halfway she stopped, just the portion
Allotted me, in my presence appraised.

18. I grabbed at the cup for what remained inside,
And won it after a tussle, wine flying wide!

19. From the contest and the wine my soul sprouted wings
Poised between cup and mistress beside.