A Song For Bacchus

I didn't know that Lorenzo was a poet. *surprised*


The poem below is by Lorenzo De Medici (1449-1492)



A Song For Bacchus


How beautiful our Youth is
That’s always flying by us!

Who’d be happy, let him be so:

Nothing’s sure about tomorrow.



Here are Bacchus, Ariadne,

Lovely, burning for each other:

Since deceiving time must flee,

They seek their delight together.

These nymphs, and other races,

Are full of happiness forever.

Who’d be happy, let him be so:

Nothing’s sure about tomorrow.



These delighted little satyrs

With their nymphs intoxicated,

Set a hundred snares now for them,

In the caves and in the bushes:

Warmed by Bacchus, all together

Dancing, leaping there forever,

Who’d be happy, let him be so:

Nothing’s sure about tomorrow.



All the nymphs are more than happy

To be tricked by their satyrs,

There’s no defence from loving

Except for coarse ungrateful people:

Now they’re mingling together,

Playing, singing there forever.

Who’d be happy, let him be so:

Nothing’s sure about tomorrow.



And that lump behind them, now

On the ass, is old Silenus:

Happy and inebriated,

Full of food and years already:

Though he can’t stand to attention,

He still laughs with joy forever.

Who’d be happy, let him be so:

Nothing’s sure about tomorrow.





Midas follows all the others:

Turns to gold the things he touches.

Where’s the joy in owning treasure,

If it doesn’t give you pleasure?

And where’s the sweet taste for a man

Who only feels his thirst forever?

Who’d be happy, let him be so:

Nothing’s sure about tomorrow.



Ope’ your ears wide, everyone:

Let none dine on their tomorrows:

Old and young ones, all at play,

Girls and boys, be glad today,

Banish every tearful sorrow,

Make each day a holiday.

Who’d be happy, let him be so:

Nothing’s sure about tomorrow.



Ladies and you youthful lovers,

Long live Bacchus: long live Love!

Everyone sing, dance and play!

Hearts, be all on fire with sweetness!

No faintness now or hint of sadness!

Whatever is to be must be:

Who’d be happy, let him be so:

Nothing’s sure about tomorrow.