лучик солнца

Come near me, comrades! It’s autumn!
the wormwood’s baking in the grainy grapes,

As does the venom in the viper’s goiter.

A shout I want to cry! And drink!

‘tis to my wild marvel, leaving me all alone

With tears,

with you

and with the autumn.

Come hither, the one that’s got the ears to hear

Go hear me: the pain is deep if only it can laugh!

Hence let the Bitter laugh today within me,

So it can throw, amid big bursts of laughter,

into the clouds, its goblet.

Come near me, comrades! Let’s drink!

HA HA!  What’s that, which shines so strangely in the sky?
Moon’s horn?
No, no! a shard it is, left of a golden cup,

which I have broken –

– my iron arm into the vault I thrust!
I’m drunk and I’d smash all

which is Dream,

which is temple or shrine
come near me, comrades. Tomorrow I’ll die.

but I’ll let you inherit my excellent skull

for you to drink

wormwood of,

if missing life,

and poison,

if you would want to follow! – Come after me, comrades!

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