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Apollon, qui pleurait le trepas d'Hyacinthe,

Ne voulait pas ceder la victoire a la mort.

Il fallait que son ame, adepte de l'essor,

Trouvat pour la beaute une alchemie plus sainte.

Donc de sa main celeste il epuise, il ereinte

Les dons les plus subtils de la divine Flore.

Leurs corps brises souspirent une exhalaison d'or

Dont il nous recueillait la goutte de--l'Absinthe!



Aux cavernes blotties, aux palis petillants,

Par un, par deux, buvez ce breuvage d'aimant!

Car c'est un sortilege, un propos de dictame,

Ce vin d'opale pale avortit la misere,

Ouvre de la beaute l'intime sanctuaire

--Ensorcelle mon coeur, extasie mort ame!

Ahh Go Away with French pokey

Apollo, who was weeping for the death of Hyacinthe,
Didn' t want to give up the victory for the death.
His soul, adept of the soaring,
Had to find for the beauty a holier alchemy.
Thus with his celestial hand he drains, he exhausts
The most subtle gifts of the divine Flora
Their broken bodies sigh a golden exhalation
Of which he was catching for us the drop of -- Absinthe!

To the curled up caves, to the sparkling palaces,
By one, by two, drink this lover' s beverage!
For this is a spell, a balm' s matter
This pale opal wine aborts misery,
Hems with the beauty the intimate sanctuary
-- Bewitches my heart, ecstasies my soul!

I <3 (icecream) absinthe

mmmmmmm absinth

French rules

Do you speak it danni?