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Grapes are eaten one by one.

Egyptian proverbs
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Eaten Alive

(b. gibb/m. gibb/m. jackson)
Animal stalking you at night
Im a sucker for someone
And I got the prey in sight
Lying on a bed of leaves
In the modern times
You forget and let your spirit breathe
Capture me my blood is red
Another victim of your ritual
For you my skin is shed
Ecstacy aint what you find
In the modern world
One flick of my tongue changes
The meaning of the world
And you say
Thats impossible
Thats not impossible to do, oh
And you digest what I can see
The taste of you can be
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cause youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust, you see
I dont wanna get eaten alive
To be eaten alive
Eaten alive
I dont ever wanna be
Eaten alive
Now I got you on the run
And the quicker my senses
And the chance is, Im the faster one
I know the universal law
Primeval times
With a little stimulation
Itll come once more, and you say
Thats impossible
Its not impossible to do, oh
And you digest what I can see
The taste of you can be
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cause youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust
You see
I dont wanna get eaten alive
To be eaten alive
Eaten alive
I dont ever wanna be
Eaten alive
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cause youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust

[...] Read more

song performed by Diana Ross
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Eaten Alive

Animal stalking you at night
Im a sucker for someone
And I got the prey in sight
Lying on your bed of leaves
In the modern times
You forget and let your spirit breathe
Capture me my blood is red
Another victim of your ritual
For you my skin is shed
Ecstasy aint what you find
In the modern world
One flick of my tongue
Changes the meaning of the word
And you say
Thats impossible
Its not impossible to do , oh
And you can digest what I can see
The taste of you can be
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cos youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust ,you see
I dont wanna get eaten alive
To be eaten alive , eaten alive
I dont ever wanna be , ha,ha, eaten alive , uh huh
Now I got you on the run
The quicker my senses
And the chance is Im the faster one
I know the universal law
Primeval times
With a little stimulation
Itll come once more
And you say
Thats impossible
Its not impossible to do , oh
And you can digest what I can see
The taste of you can be
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cos youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust , you see
I dont wanna get eaten live
To be eaten alive , eaten alive
I dont ever wanna be , ha ha , eaten alive , uh huh
(break)
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cos youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust ,you see
I dont wanna get eaten alive ,to be
Tie me to a tree , crawl all over me
You can rip my shirt , drag me in the dirt
I will be your slave , anything you say

[...] Read more

song performed by Bee Gees
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Eaten Alive

(with diana ross)
Animal stalking you at night
Im a sucker for someone
And I got the prey in sight
Lying on a bed of leaves
In the modern times
You forget and let your spirit breathe
Capture me my blood is red
Another vitim of your ritual
For you my skin is shed
Ecstacy aint what you find
In the modern world
One flick of my tongue changes
The meaning of the world
And you say
Thats impossible
Thats not impossible to do, oh
And you digest what I can see
The taste of you can be
Chorus:
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cause youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust, you see
I dont wanna get eaten alive
To be eaten alive
Eaten alive
I dont ever wanna be
Eaten alive
Now I got you on the run
And the quicker my senses
And the chance is, Im the faster one
I know the universal law
Primeval times
With a little stimulation
Itll come once more, and you say
Thats impossible
Its not impossible to do, oh
And you digest what I can see
The taste of you can be
(chorus)
I dont wanna get eaten alive
cause youre so dangerous
No more hearts I can trust, you see
I dont wanna get eaten alive
To be eaten alive
Tie me to a tree, crawl all over me
You can rip my shirt, drag me in the dirt
I will be your slave, anything you say
I dont ever wanna be eaten alive
I dont wanna get eaten alive

[...] Read more

song performed by Michael Jackson
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Green Grapes

I have some green grapes at their best
And I am waiting for you to pass by
For these grapes are of such great taste
It is the truth so I swear and so I sigh

They were raised upon mountains high
where the wind softly murmur and blow
And a herd of wild horses feeds nigh
On tall grass blades rooted grow

So this is why my grapes are so sweet
The mountain spring by them lead
Tall reeds guard the fenced gates
To keep out the ugly crow’s gait

Quietly my green grapes wait
For the clock sounds the hour late
What makes you hesitate?
What makes you not keep your date?

Therefore my green grapes with me are so sad
And I am waiting not have gone yet to bed
If you only give your saint like smile in a glance
My face will be covered with happy countenance

But here I hear approaching steps from the south
My green grapes are full of hopes for your mouth
But still I am so lonely and sad
Since to bring flowers you forbade

May be next year you change your mind
And to my request you be more kind
And I will bring you flowers from the bowers
Wet with rain of rainbow showers

A flimsy fancy flattered my mind
Yet again it seemed overbold
If you can just love me for a while short
I always consider you gentle and kind

But sometimes you are remote and cold
May be my approaches are too bold
And most hurtful are your scorns
Sharp and fierce worse than a thousand thorns

Alas, I hear no more sound where I stand

[...] Read more

poem by Isaac Ziv
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Thespis: Act II

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

GODS

Jupiter, Aged Diety
Apollo, Aged Diety
Mars, Aged Diety
Diana, Aged Diety
Mercury

THESPIANS

Thespis
Sillimon
TimidonTipseion
Preposteros
Stupidas
Sparkeio n
Nicemis
Pretteia
Daphne
Cymon

ACT II - The same Scene, with the Ruins Restored

SCENE-the same scene as in Act I with the exception that in place
of the ruins that filled the foreground of the stage, the
interior of a magnificent temple is seen showing the background
of the scene of Act I, through the columns of the portico at the
back. High throne. L.U.E. Low seats below it. All the substitute
gods and goddesses [that is to say, Thespians] are discovered
grouped in picturesque attitudes about the stage, eating and
drinking, and smoking and singing the following verses.

CHO. Of all symposia
The best by half
Upon Olympus, here await us.
We eat ambrosia.
And nectar quaff,
It cheers but don't inebriate us.
We know the fallacies,
Of human food
So please to pass Olympian rosy,
We built up palaces,
Where ruins stood,
And find them much more snug and cosy.

SILL. To work and think, my dear,
Up here would be,

[...] Read more

poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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I have some green grapes at their best

I have some green grapes at their best
And I am waiting for you to pass by
For these grapes are of such great taste
It is the truth so I swear and so I sigh

They were raised upon mountains high
where the wind softly blow
and a herd of wild horses feeds nigh
on tall grass blades rooted grow

So this is why my grapes are so sweet
The mountain spring by them lead
Tall reeds guard the gates
To keep out the ugly crow’s gait

Quietly my green grapes wait
For the clock sounds the hour late
What makes you hesitate?
What makes you not keep your date?
Therefore my grapes are so sad
And I am waiting not have gone yet to bed

But here I hear approaching steps from the south
My green grapes are full of hopes for your mouth
But still I am so lonely and sad
Since to bring flowers you forbade

May be next year you change your mind
And to my request you be more kind
And I will bring you flowers from the bowers
Wet with rain of rainbow showers

copy rights 2010

poem by Isaac Ziv
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The Mother Exultant

Joy! Joy! Joy!
The hills are glad,
The valleys re-echo with merriment,
In my heart is the sound of laughter,
And my feet dance to the time of it;
Oh, little son, carried light on my shoulder,
Let us go laughing and dancing through the live days,
For this is the hour of the vintage,
When man gathereth for himself the fruits of the vineyard.

Look, little son, look:
The grapes are translucent and ripe,
They are heavy and fragrant with juice
They wait for the hands of the vintagers;

For a long time the grapes were not,

And were in the womb of the earth,

Then out of the heavens came the rain,

The sun sent down his warmth from the sky,

At the touch of life, life stirred,

And the earth brought forth her fruits in due season.

I was a maid and alone,

When, behold, there came to me a vision;

My heart cried out within me,

And the voice was the voice of God.

Yea, a virgin I dreamed of love,

And was troubled and sore afraid,

I wept and was glad,

For the word of my heart named me blesse'd,

My soul exhalted the might of creation.

I was a maid and alone,

When, behold, my lover came to me,

[...] Read more

poem by Adelaide Crapsey
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Tarantella - Sour Grapes

I admitted that I am utterly charming;
my specialty is to feed sour grapes,
to femmes causing a total disarming,
from this entrancing, none escapes.

After we jumped on the sand dunes,
and fighting against untamed sharks,
twas the hour of listening to tunes,
vented by an orbiting of love quarks.

I danced barefooted on the grapes,
on vigorous must-making tarantella,
thus I approached your curvy shapes,
hmm.. I knew your name was Stella! !

Was it not? While dancing I kissed,
those sour grapes you were holding,
and you insisted that I had to feed,
one by one the grapes on beholding.

What was that name; maybe Maria?
(stiff memory never helped my brain)
O, sour grapes! I called you Allegria,
singing Rossini's 'La Danza' refrain.

You stated you loved only the must,
your vine crown spelled 'Angioletta';
it did not? This loss made me aghast,
I thought Rossini called you Giulietta!

poem by Giorgio Veneto
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Eve, Oh Eve

Why wouldn't Eve have eaten of the fruit?
Didn't she have a hand to reach out with,
Fingers with which to make a fist?
Didn't Eve have a stomach for feeling hunger,
A tongue for feeling thirst,
A heart with which to love?

Well, then, why wouldn't Eve have eaten of the fruit?
Why would she merely have suppressed her wishes,
Regulated her steps,
Subdued her thirst?
Why would she have been so compelled
To keep Adam moving around in the Garden of Eden all their lives?

Because Eve did eat of the fruit,
There is sky and earth.
Because she has eaten,

There are moon, sun, rivers, seas,

Because she has eaten, trees, plans and vines.

because Eve has eaten of the fruit

there is joy, because she has eaten there is joy.

joy, joy-

Eating of the fruit, Eve made a heaven of the earth.

Eve, if you get hold of the fruit

don't ever refrain from eating.

poem by Taslima Nasrin
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The Odyssey: Book 9

And Ulysses answered, "King Alcinous, it is a good thing to hear a
bard with such a divine voice as this man has. There is nothing better
or more delightful than when a whole people make merry together,
with the guests sitting orderly to listen, while the table is loaded
with bread and meats, and the cup-bearer draws wine and fills his
cup for every man. This is indeed as fair a sight as a man can see.
Now, however, since you are inclined to ask the story of my sorrows,
and rekindle my own sad memories in respect of them, I do not know how
to begin, nor yet how to continue and conclude my tale, for the hand
of heaven has been laid heavily upon me.
"Firstly, then, I will tell you my name that you too may know it,
and one day, if I outlive this time of sorrow, may become my there
guests though I live so far away from all of you. I am Ulysses son
of Laertes, reknowned among mankind for all manner of subtlety, so
that my fame ascends to heaven. I live in Ithaca, where there is a
high mountain called Neritum, covered with forests; and not far from
it there is a group of islands very near to one another- Dulichium,
Same, and the wooded island of Zacynthus. It lies squat on the
horizon, all highest up in the sea towards the sunset, while the
others lie away from it towards dawn. It is a rugged island, but it
breeds brave men, and my eyes know none that they better love to
look upon. The goddess Calypso kept me with her in her cave, and
wanted me to marry her, as did also the cunning Aeaean goddess
Circe; but they could neither of them persuade me, for there is
nothing dearer to a man than his own country and his parents, and
however splendid a home he may have in a foreign country, if it be far
from father or mother, he does not care about it. Now, however, I will
tell you of the many hazardous adventures which by Jove's will I met
with on my return from Troy.
"When I had set sail thence the wind took me first to Ismarus, which
is the city of the Cicons. There I sacked the town and put the
people to the sword. We took their wives and also much booty, which we
divided equitably amongst us, so that none might have reason to
complain. I then said that we had better make off at once, but my
men very foolishly would not obey me, so they stayed there drinking
much wine and killing great numbers of sheep and oxen on the sea
shore. Meanwhile the Cicons cried out for help to other Cicons who
lived inland. These were more in number, and stronger, and they were
more skilled in the art of war, for they could fight, either from
chariots or on foot as the occasion served; in the morning, therefore,
they came as thick as leaves and bloom in summer, and the hand of
heaven was against us, so that we were hard pressed. They set the
battle in array near the ships, and the hosts aimed their
bronze-shod spears at one another. So long as the day waxed and it was
still morning, we held our own against them, though they were more
in number than we; but as the sun went down, towards the time when men
loose their oxen, the Cicons got the better of us, and we lost half
a dozen men from every ship we had; so we got away with those that
were left.
"Thence we sailed onward with sorrow in our hearts, but glad to have

[...] Read more

poem by Homer, translated by Samuel Butler
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Eat Or Be Eaten

Pop/du prey
I got nothin to eat in this old house
I gotta go out and catch a mouse
I cant be wrong so I gotta be right
Its eat or be eaten
Somethings hungry like a hunter
And its probing like a fingerrr
As the drumbeat keeps things hurrying
Thats the part thats so appealing
Its the beat that dominates
Each breath you draw
Each step you take
Strike or be stncken
Eat or be eaten yum yum yum yum
Eat or be eaten
Your skills are highly specialized
But still that giri can magnetize
You sense the hunger in her eyes
Its beat or be beaten
Theres no softness in her eyes
A weird dull glint is in her eyes
With a stubborn will to tantalize
Like some cheap devil in disguise
And its troubling me
Hell its nervy thats what it is
Eat or be eaten
Beat or be beaten
Strike or be stricken
The night is dark the night is pulp
Tilt back your head and take a gul
Of air thats screamed a thousand times
The main thing is to victimize
Its just the night for a conquenng tribe
Oh, its just the night for a conquering tribe
Eat or be eaten
Beat or be beaten
Faster than the arrow flies
Or the man who smiles while he lies
Its just the night for a conquering tribe
And the girls are calling in a yellow dress
That girl is calling in a yellow dress
She says eat eat eat here boys
Eat eat eat here boys
And then a bop a doo ba doop ba abop
A dooba ba bop bohma bop a doo bop bohm
A doopee dee a dop adoop
A bum bayo bayum bohmbayumbohm ooooohh..

song performed by Iggy Pop
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Love On The Vine

I came home yesterday
To the love that I left behind
It seems Ive been far away, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
I guess I just ran away (I just ran away)
Tried to see what I could not find (what I could not find)
Its been a one act play, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
And I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Ive been wasting time (wasting time)
With this old heart of mine (this old heart of mine)
Working it overtime, ah, ah, ah, ah
Just another blue day
Like the ones that I left behind
I know its easy to say, yeah
But I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Oh and I know that the berrys ripe on the vine
And I know that the grapes will soon turn to wine
Yes I know Ill be there just in time to love you
Love you on the vine, oh on the vine
Love you on the vine, oh on the vine
I love you on the vine, oh on the vine, ah
On the vine, oh on the vine ...

song performed by America
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Diamonds In The Mine

The woman in blue, shes asking for revenge,
Man in white -- thats you -- says he has no friends.
The river is swollen up with rusty cans
And the trees are burning in your promised land.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in the mine.
Well, you tell me that your lover has a broken limb,
You say youre kind of restless now and its on account of him.
Well, I saw the man in question, it was just the other night,
He was eating up a lady where the lions and christians fight.
And there are no letters in the mailbox
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in the mine.
(you tell them now)
Ah, there is no comfort in the covens of the witch,
Some very clever doctor went and sterilized the bitch,
And the only man of energy, yes the revolutions pride,
He trained a hundred women just to kill an unborn child.
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
Oh no, there are no, no grapes upon your vine,
And there are, there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in your mine,
And there are no letters in the mailbox,
And there are no grapes upon the vine,
And there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore,
And there are no diamonds in your mine.

song performed by Leonard Cohen
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Goblin Market

MORNING and evening
Maids heard the goblins cry:
"Come buy our orchard fruits,
Come buy, come buy:
Apples and quinces,
Lemons and oranges,
Plump unpecked cherries-
Melons and raspberries,
Bloom-down-cheeked peaches,
Swart-headed mulberries,
Wild free-born cranberries,
Crab-apples, dewberries,
Pine-apples, blackberries,
Apricots, strawberries--
All ripe together
In summer weather--
Morns that pass by,
Fair eves that fly;
Come buy, come buy;
Our grapes fresh from the vine,
Pomegranates full and fine,
Dates and sharp bullaces,
Rare pears and greengages,
Damsons and bilberries,
Taste them and try:
Currants and gooseberries,
Bright-fire-like barberries,
Figs to fill your mouth,
Citrons from the South,
Sweet to tongue and sound to eye,
Come buy, come buy."

Evening by evening
Among the brookside rushes,
Laura bowed her head to hear,
Lizzie veiled her blushes:
Crouching close together
In the cooling weather,
With clasping arms and cautioning lips,
With tingling cheeks and finger-tips.
"Lie close," Laura said,
Pricking up her golden head:
We must not look at goblin men,
We must not buy their fruits:
Who knows upon what soil they fed
Their hungry thirsty roots?"
"Come buy," call the goblins
Hobbling down the glen.
"O! cried Lizzie, Laura, Laura,
You should not peep at goblin men."

[...] Read more

poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Foxes in My Vineyard

One fair even, at the eve of last summer,
In the green and fertile country fields
Where grew luscious ears of 'eschol' grapes
I lingered by the Ploughman's hedge
Held in glee as plush tendrils cloaked tall stakes
And far afield, an endless pleach of virid vines.

I sought to see the blest, plush plums
Sired by those lustful ears of vine
''Those too, ought be plummy plush'', thought i
For to strum of the grapes there borne i craved
But lo, the vines though lush, the grapes...? All gone!

I scarce could take it true
For harvest yet looms a distant far!
But who had wrought this spiteful deed,
And where had all the green grapes gone?
But soon lunged forth a fox for the brushes green
Twas meet to set my curious soul yet agrief.

And so mused i, how like this vineyard green
A many a fellow, squalor within, splendour without!
Bade bare by ravenous foxes lot
For whilst we shy behind swaddling folds at the blush of dawn
A vixen creepeth in the meadow without!

poem by Nwaga Philip
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Macarius The Monk

IN the old days, while yet the Church was young,
And men believed that praise of God was sung
In curbing self as well as singing psalms,
There lived a monk, Macarius by name,
A holy man, to whom the faithful came
With hungry hearts to hear the wondrous Word.
In sight of gushing springs and sheltering palms,
He dwelt within the desert: from the marsh
He drank the brackish water, and his food
Was dates and roots,—and all his rule was harsh,
For pampered flesh in' those days warred with good.
From those who came in scores a few there were
Who feared the devil more than fast and prayer,
And these remained and took the hermit's vow.
A dozen saints there grew to be; and now
Macarius, happy, lived in larger care.
He taught his brethren all the lore he knew,
And as they learned, his pious rigors grew.
His whole intent was on the spirit's goal:
He taught them silence—words disturb the soul;
He warned of joys, and bade them pray for sorrow,
And be prepared to-day for death to-morrow;
To know that human life alone was given
To prove the souls of those who merit heaven;
He bade the twelve in all things be as brothers,
And die to self, to live and work for others.
'For so,'' he said, 'we save our love and labors,
And each one gives his own and takes his neighbor's.'

Thus long he taught, and while they silent heard,
He prayed for fruitful soil to hold the Word.
One day, beside the marsh they' labored long,—
For worldly work makes sweeter sacred song,—
And when the cruel sun made hot the sand,
And Afric's gnats the sweltering face and hand
Tormenting stung, a passing traveler stood
And watched the workers by the reeking flood.
Macarius, nigh with heat and toil was faint;
The traveler saw, and to the suffering saint
A bunch of luscious grapes in pity threw.
Most sweet and fresh and fair they were to view,
A generous cluster, bursting-rich with wine,
Macarius longed to taste. ' The fruit is mine,'
He said, and sighed; 'but I, who daily teach,
Feel now the bond to practice as I preach.'
He gave the cluster to the nearest one,
And with his heavy toil went patient on.

As one athirst will greet a flowing brim,
The tempting fruit made moist the mouth of him

[...] Read more

poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Every Illusion Is Catered

Trapped and confined.
With unbalanced queasy feelings...
Felt in these times out of alignment.
And trying too hard to fit in we do!
Is this the fate one chooses to keep?
Are people too amazed,
By the speed of it increased?
As many pursue youth...
With a refusal of aging to beat!

Every illusion is catered,
But peace.
Every illusion is rated,
But peace.

On knees or on one's feet,
No peace is peeled then eaten.
It's fed and felt from the heart,
And then released.

Like a soothing breeze of air to breathe.

Every illusion is catered,
But peace.
Every illusion is rated,
But peace.

On knees or on one's feet,
No peace is peeled then eaten.
It's fed and felt from the heart,
And then released.

Like a soothing breeze of air to breathe.

Trapped and confined.
With unbalanced queasy feelings...
Felt in these times out of alignment.
And trying too hard to fit in we do!
Is this the fate one chooses to keep?
Are people too amazed,
By the speed of it increased?
As many pursue youth...
With a refusal of aging to beat!

Every illusion is catered,
But peace.
Every illusion is rated,
But peace.

On knees or on one's feet,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Are They Real?

Your grapes are so real
I can smell it from here.
Your grapes are so real,
I can almost taste it from here.
Your grapes are so real,
I reach out to touch it from here,
Really? I'm not sure they are not real.

poem by Philo Yan
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Ears in the Turrets Hear

Ears in the turrets hear
Hands grumble on the door,
Eyes in the gables see
The fingers at the locks.
Shall I unbolt or stay
Alone till the day I die
Unseen by stranger-eyes
In this white house?
Hands, hold you poison or grapes?

Beyond this island bound
By a thin sea of flesh
And a bone coast,
The land lies out of sound
And the hills out of mind.
No birds or flying fish
Disturbs this island’s rest.

Ears in this island hear
The wind pass like a fire,
Eyes in this island see
Ships anchor off the bay.
Shall I run to the ships
With the wind in my hair,
Or stay till the day I die
And welcome no sailor?
Ships, hold you poison or grapes?

Hands grumble on the door,
Ships anchor off the bay,
Rain beats the sand and slates.
Shall I let in the stranger,
Shall I welcome the sailor,
Or stay till the day I die?

Hands of the stranger and holds of the ships,
Hold you poison or grapes?

poem by Dylan Thomas
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Hermann And Dorothea - IV. Euterpe

MOTHER AND SON.

THUS the men discoursed together; and meanwhile the mother
Went in search of her son,--at first in front of the dwelling
On the bench of stone, for he was accustom'd to sit there.
When she found him not there, she went to look in the stable,
Thinking perchance he was feeding his splendid horses, the stallions
Which he had bought when foals, and which he entrusted to no one.
But the servant inform'd her that he had gone to the garden.
Then she nimbly strode across the long double courtyard,
Left the stables behind, and the barns all made of good timber,
Enter'd the garden which stretch'd far away to the walls of the borough,
Walk'd across it, rejoicing to see how all things were growing,
Carefully straighten'd the props, on which the apple-tree's branches,
Heavily loaded, reposed, and the weighty boughs of the pear-tree,
Took a few caterpillars from off the strong-sprouting cabbage;
For a bustling woman is never idle one moment.
In this manner she came to the end of the long-reaching garden,
Where was the arbour all cover'd with woodbine: she found not her son there,
Nor was he to be seen in any part of the garden.
But she found on the latch the door which out of the arbour
Through the wall of the town had been made by special permission
During their ancestor's time, the worthy old burgomaster.
So she easily stepp'd across the dry ditch at the spot where
On the highway abutted their well-inclosed excellent vineyard.
Rising steeply upwards, its face tow'rd the sun turn'd directly.
Up the hill she proceeded, rejoicing, as farther she mounted,
At the size of the grapes, which scarcely were hid by the foliage.
Shady and well-cover'd in, the middle walk at the top was,
Which was ascended by steps of rough flat pieces constructed.
And within it were hanging fine chasselas and muscatels also,
And a reddish-blue grape, of quite an exceptional bigness,
All with carefulness planted, to give to their guests after dinner.
But with separate stems the rest of the vineyard was planted,
Smaller grapes producing, from which the finest wine made is.
So she constantly mounted, enjoying in prospect the autumn.
And the festal day, when the neighbourhood met with rejoicing,
Picking and treading the grapes, and putting the must in the wine-vats,
Every corner and nook resounding at night with the fireworks,
Blazing and cracking away, due honour to pay to the harvest.
But she uneasy became, when she in vain had been calling
Twice and three times her son, and when the sole answer that reach'd her
Came from the garrulous echo which out of the town towers issued.
Strange it appear'd to have to seek him; he never went far off,
(As he before had told her) in order to ward off all sorrow
From his dear mother, and her forebodings of coming disaster.
But she still was expecting upon the highway to find him,
For the doors at the bottom, like those at the top, of the vineyard
Stood wide open; and so at length she enter'd the broad field
Which, with its spreading expanse, o'er the whole of the hill's back extended.

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poem by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
Added by Poetry Lover
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