This is something that I internalized after reading it a long time ago. Can’t remember the book or the transaltor.
Come forth in the first of spring
The winter garment of repentance fling
The bird of time has but a little way to fly
And the bird is on the wing
Dreaming when Dawn’s Left Hand was in the Sky
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry
"Awake, my Little ones, and fill the Cup
Before Life’s Liquor in its Cup be dry."