The starved priest must stay in his cold hills.
How can he walk in vineyards,
Where brown girls mock him
With kisses, and with the dance!
You, O son of Silenus, must live in cities,
Where there is wine,
Where there are couches for rank flesh,
Where women walk in streets.

But I will be a conqueror,
Strong to starve and feast.
I will go up into the hills.
With club and flint I will fight hairy men.
I will break a head as I throw down a cup;
I will spill my blood as I throw down wine at a feast;
I will break mountain ice for my bath;
I will lie upon cold rock, and I will dream.

Then I will come down into the cities,
Slim, but for my great sinews.

And I will walk in the streets of women
The women will be behind their curtains,
And they will fear me.

I will be strong to live beyond the law;
I will be strong to live without the priest;
I will be strong, no slave of couches.
I will be a conqueror,
Mighty to starve and feast.