A Nota Bene

When I have a flask well laden —
Nota bene, with good wine,
And thereto a pretty maiden —
Nota bene, who is mine, —
Joy have I in fullest dower —
Nota bene, for an hour.

Gay the time that we inherit —
Nota bene, not all good:
Blows are oft rewards of merit,
Enemies desire our blood.
Many think in bliss to dwell —
Nota bene, bagatelle!

Go your way, life, never falter!
Stop, though — nota bene, there:
Age must never seek to alter
To a witch my sweetheart fair.
Wine and love exalt me high —
Nota bene, till I die.
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Author of original: 
Carl Michael Bellman
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