Page 1
My dear Hans Barth,
Your most charming and most eloquent book, polished with the pumice-stone left by Catullus 1Catullus. Roman lyric poet from Verona. on the table of a Veronese tavern, seems to me to illustrate the maxim of that wise drinker Avicenna 2Avicenna. Persian philosopher and physician., who died of a stomach illness: that wine is permitted to the man of fine spirit and forbidden to the dolt. A student-like Muse, with the face of a snub-nosed goat stained with wine-lees, whenever you sit down at table — softly in a chair, or on a bench in order to drink monastically — bends over your shoulder and, dipping her slightly hooked finger into your glass, draws upon the slab of grey Bardiglio marble a fanciful sketch in the manner of Callot 3Jacques Callot. Seventeenth-century engraver from Lorraine., or writes a playful half-line, confusing the Latin of the clerks with that of Horace 4Horace. Roman poet.. “O! O! I am all in flower!” says your goatish-Pan-like Muse. “O! O! I am all red!” replies your valiant nose *Barth protests that his nose is white as a lily.. The abstainer, born drunk, honours in you the drinker “adorned with every branch of letters,” as Cardinal Bembo 5Pietro Bembo. Venetian humanist. does in the Venetian inscription, and as the scholar Martin Luther does in old Eisenach of the Landgraves.
(*) I protest! My nose is white as a lily. — H.B.