Franco Battiato. Oh Sweet Were The Hours. Zeneszám

Oh sweet the hours, when in mirth's frolic throng
I led up the revels with dance and with song;
When brisk from the fountain, and bright as the day,
my spirits o'erflow'd, and ran sparkling away!

Wine! Come bring me wine to cheer me,
Friend of my heart! Come pledge me high!
Wine! Till the dreams of youth again are near me,
Why must they leave me, tell me, why?

Retourn, ye sweet hours! Once again let me see,
Your airly light forms of enchantment and glee;
Come, give an old friend, while he crowns his gay glass,
A nod as you part and a smile as you pass.

Wine! Come bring me wine...

I cannot forget you, I would not resign,
There's health in my pulse, and a spell in my wine;
and sunshine in autumn, tho'passing too soon,
Is sweeter and dearer than sunshine in June.

Wine! Come bring me wine...