Since wine gives no certainty of Fate O Saki
Ho give me a cup of wine, O Saki,
It is no business of our hearts to sorrow uselessly
During these two or three days that we are in the world, O Saki.


P 740

Since doom gives quarter unto no wight, O skinker,
Come, give me the winecup in hand forthright, O skinker!
Behoveth us chew not the idle cud of sorrow
For these two or three days of existence's flight, O skinker!

Th 488

Since at Death's hands no quarter we receive.
Vintner, make haste a stoup of wine to give!
Let us not fret, boy, o'er our heart's concerns.
For these few days that here on earth we live!

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