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Location wonderful noise, frantic clicks?
whom, where the name and drums, tambourine?
What do the joyful faces
And songs poselyan?
In their circle of light freedom
Priya festive wreath.
But moved the crowds ...
He is coming ... That he, Now much God!
Here Bacchus peace, forever young!
Here he is, India's hero!
About joy! full you
shaking, ready to break out of the string
Not hypocritical praise!..

Evan, evoe! give glasses!
Bring fresh wreaths!
slaves, where our Tirso?
We run a peaceful battle, brave fighters!
Here he is! Now Bacchus! About an hour encouraging!
Sovereign thyrsus in his hands;
Crown of yellow grape
The black curly hair ...
flows. His mladye Tigers
From humble fury entail;
Around flying Eroses, games -
And sing hymns in honor of him.
Him crowding kozlonogy
And the fauns and satyrs swarm,
Ivy enmeshed in their horns;
Fleeing confusion crowd
In the wake behind a fast chariot,
Someone with reed harp,
Who with his faithful Mug;
He stumbled upadana
And velvet carpet fields
Wine bahrovыm oblyvaet
When the wild laughter of friends. —
There dala see the wonderful progress!
Merry cymbals sound;
Mladen nymphs and sylvan,
Amounted to a noisy dance,
Bear motionless Silen ...
wine flows, splashing foam,
And the roses spilling around:
Bear for a sleeping old man
And thyrsus, Peace symbol of victory,
And the Goblet of hard gold,
The crowning mercy sapphire -
Bacchus expensive gift.

But howls distant shore.
Vlasov spread over her shoulders,
wedding Bunch, Nude,
Run Bacchante in the mountains.
cymbals ringing, circling between their fingers,
Rattle - and their second in a terrible voice.
Promchalysya, fly, wove his hands,
Magic dancing trampled meadow,
And Mladost passionate crowds
flocked around.

Sing frantic virgin;
Their voluptuous melodies
In heart of love poured into the heat;
Their breasts dyshut Lust;
s eyes, complete madness and vexation,
told: schastie hunt!
Their inspired Movements
First, we portray
Shame nice of confusion,
Desire timid - and there
Enthusiasm and daring delight.
But here is scattered - the hills and fields;
Waving Tirso rush;
Oh, their cries are heard from afar,
And they rumble echoed on Forests:
Evan, evoe! give glasses!
Bring fresh wreaths!
slaves, where our Tirso?
We run a peaceful battle, brave fighters!

Friends, This day is blessed
Oblivion take a fuss!
Folders, wine, jet froth
In honor of Bacchus, muses and beauty!
Evan, evoe! give glasses!
Bring fresh wreaths!
slaves, where our Tirso?
We run a peaceful battle, brave fighters!

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