An arbor of flowers and a kettle of wine: Alas! in the bowers no companion is mine. Then the moon sheds her rays on my goblet and me, And my shadow betrays we're a party of three. Though the moon cannot swallow her share of the grog, And my shadow must follow wherever I jog -- Yet their friendship I'll borrow and gaily carouse, And laugh away sorrow while springtime allows. See the moon -- how she glances response to my song; See my shadow -- it dances so lightly along! While sober I feel you are both my good friends; When drunken I reel, our companionship ends. But we'll soon have a greeting without a good-bye, At our next merry meeting away in the sky. |