Bitter honey

Поэтический перевод произведения «Горький мёд»
автор исходника на русском языке – [Борис Посадский]

A love cocktail, way o’er the top, is poured in goblets through the ages.
Who knows, to "Bruderschaft" nonstop, one lips thereto again engages.
This taste is variously gauged; it’s both nectareous and salty.
It’s bitter-honeyed, purple-saged, and smells like peppermint unfaulty.

There daisy-violets’ bouquet thus sweetens meadows over there.
The woman’s scent, so far away, and dreams of mine out of nowhere...
With verses I will play her up, and let her heart stop shedding tears
And let it suddenly perk up when, there, a childhood mate appears.

For her, my feelings are still strong; I’m getting drunk and tipsy perish,
I do caress her all dreams long; with her I’m blue, and her I cherish.
Her very self I strive to think, I want to understand a trifle,
Is bitter honey late to drink and get again a loving eyeful?

That’s how my poetry is penned, at dead of night, though strange may sound.
Love can be fatal in the end, both cruel-hearted and unbound.
It turns out passionate sometimes, at times it’s an excessive scorner,
And other times, "oh, what a crime" – it passes by around the corner.