And last of all comes death.
He who has a mind to fight, let him fight, for now is the time.
Let others seek renown in arms; For me wine's wars have greater charms: Then fill the bowl, boy; fill it high: 'Tis better drunk, than dead to lie.
To-day belongs to me, To-morrow who can tell.
Thus, while I quaff the genial wine, I live mid transports quite divine.
Cursed be he above all others Who's enslaved by love of money. Money takes the place of brothers, Money takes the place of parents, Money brings us war and slaughter.