Fill the goblet of lapis Iazuli With the life, joy, sorrow, death of this whole universe. This goblet must scoop up all. Who drifts in the isle of hollow. Mothers, babies, Sick women, filthy women, Those who praz, those who surfei, and those who accompany them. The moon goes around and attracts everything. Let us give a toast, Till the earth in the goblet turn inside out.