For I know 'tis the height of wisdom to be drunken and go to the
dogs.
Let all crooked scruples vanish, let me hopelessly lose my way.
Let a gust of wild giddiness come and sweep me away from my
anchors.
The world is peopled with worthies, and workers, useful and
clever.
There are men who are easily first, and men who come decently
after.
Let them be happy and prosper, and let me be foolishly futile.
For I know 'tis the end of all works to be drunken and go to the
dogs.
I swear to surrender this moment all claims to the ranks of the
decent.
I let go my pride of learning and judgment of right and of wrong.
I'll shatter memory's vessel, scattering the last drop of tears.
With the foam of the berry-red wine I will bathe and brighten my
laughter.
The badge of the civil and staid I'll tear into shreds for the
nonce.
I'll take the holy vow to be worthless, to be drunken and go to
the dogs.
43
No, my friends, I shall never be an ascetic, whatever you may say.
I shall never be an ascetic if she does not take the vow with me.
It is my firm resolve that if I cannot find a shady shelter and a
companion for my penance, I shall never turn ascetic.
No, my friends, I shall never leave my hearth and home, and
retire into the forest solitude, if rings no merry laughter in
its echoing shade and if the end of no saffron mantle flutters
in the wind; if its silence is not deepened by soft whispers.
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