By JH Sayyar
Beneath the lantern's soft and flickering light,
The goblets clink with laughter’s golden chime,
And tongues grow looser as descends the night,
Uncaging hearts from reason and from time
Crimson pours like blood from Bacchus’ vein,
Its fire kindles joys and all secret fears;
It stirs the soul to pleasure, then to pain,
And paints the cheek with blushes or with tears
The songs grow bold, the stories blur and blend,
And masks fall off that day has held in place;
Old foes embrace, old lovers feign to mend,
Each drink a veil, each smile a fleeting grace.
Yet when the wine is gone and night is fled,
The silence wakes, and sobers what was said.
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