1. My brother, two thirds of our night has passed
And we both await the morning star

2. So pour from the pitcher into the goblets a drink
That will lift two different hearts

3. They will throb as they blend within the bowl of his goblet
The throb of a sore head on a day of reckoning

4. At times it will call out my worries, at others his
Oh let their two hearts cast away sorrow!

5. And do not deny it me even if I say I’m a lad
With no skill at the two-stringed lute

6. One whose shoulders bear his crutch when he walks
His two feet stumble with its weight

7. With these two trusts I’m spared harm
No good in a life without safety’s assurance