Whether their languishing
Glances resist, or
Glittering and tearful, they
Call and invite.
How shine the clusters
With happy blood,
So that the furious
Joy may not perish,
So that the languishing
Love be restored,
And sorrow be banished
And love be increased.
Thy breath, O Satan!
My verse inspires,
When from my bosom
The gods I defy
Of kings pontifical,
Of kings inhuman.
Thine is the lightning that
Sets minds to shaking.
For thee Arimane,
Adonis, Astarte;
For thee lived the marbles,
The pictures, the parchments,
When the fair Venus
Anadyomene
Blessed the Ionian
Heavens serene.
For thee were roaring the
Forests of Lebanon,
Of the fair Cypri
Lover re-born;
For thee rose the chorus,
For thee raved the dances,
For thee the pure shining
Loves of the virgins,
Under the sweet-odored
Palms of Idume,
Where break in white foam
The Cyprian waves.