By God, I have no inclination towards either fat or sweet, nor for the purse full of gold, neither for the golden cup.
You draw the people of earth to heaven; the moon exclaims, “What grace and generosity! What amazing power and authority!”
When your fantasy shines on me like the moon at the full, Venus and the Pleiades bite their forearms and fingers in envy.
Ha, thanks be to God that I have attained this kingdom; it was all true, what your love said to me again and again of old.
When he saw me on tiptoe, he signaled to me saying, “What you desire has come to pass; ho, be secure and be seated!”
All creatures in intoxication of joy bow down before him; lamb and wolf are friendly together, no envy or hatred in the heart;
They are so drunk they cannot tell the way to town from the way home; they know not “whether we are men, extraordinary, or colored clay.”
Goblet in hand and distraught, I wonder what am I to do with this? Drink it or bestow it? You tell me, sweet king!
“You drink; what bestowing should there be? For your turn has come.” Lo, I have drunk; lo, I have drunk, since I am specified before you.
“Drink this wine of the throne, whereof if you were to place one cup in the hand of a dead man, he would respond to the prompting.”
