1. Behold, the summoner to abstinence calls me today,
And the cups of affliction have corrected my inclination,

2. I was once the flutterer of youth's wing,
Dragging the train of clouds, a drawer of rain.

3. Many a flowered night whose moon was enthroned on high
Shaking the leaves of the boughs in joyous ecstasy,

4. Have I passed in the garden of youth culling clusters of grapes
And pressing the yield of the vine of transgression.

5. But gone, gone is morn of delight,
When the night with its garment of suffering comes rol