Vile potabis

In my inexpensive goblets

Do you wish to try my humble wine?

I sealed it in the Attic urn

On leaving the Sabine press.

It is a little harsh and new;

Neither Caecuban, Calenian, nor Falernian wines

Mature in my wine-cellar;

But the Muses are friendly to me,

And the Muses help me forget

Your golden vines, oh Formian hills!