The Vineyard Of Dionysus


Vyacheslav Ivanov

Dionysus walks his vineyard, his beloved;

Two women in dark clothing — two vintagers — follow him.

Dionysus tells the two mournful guards — the vintagers:

"Take your sharp knife, my vintners, Grief and Torment;

Harvest, Grief and Torment, my beloved grapes!

Gather the blood of scarlet bunches, the tears of my golden clusters —

Take the victim of bliss to the whetstone of grief,

The purple of suffering to the whetstone of bliss;

Pour the fervent liquid of scarlet delights into my ardent Grail!"


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