Alexander Pushkin
A Bacchic Song

Why’s feasting not raucous enough?
Bring Bacchic songs on with a vengeance!
Hail, all the affectionate maidens
And wives who have blossomed to give us their love!
Let’s pour to the brim of our glasses!
Let each of us fling
His most cherished ring
In wine amid jubilant splashes!
Now raise all the glasses and toast our cohesion!
Hail, heavenly muses; hail, power of reason!
You, sun, the most hallowed, do burn!
And just as this candle is waiting
To wane in the daylight’s return,
So spurious wisdom is twinkling and fading
In awe of the mind’s timeless sun.
Hail, sun, the immortal; may darkness be done! 

Translated by Yuri Menis