This brittle cup
becomes softened by the wine,
allowing the goblet to be tossed from hand to hand,
passed through the carousing hordes
to the groom.
Nobility disguised in common garb, he sits,
yearning, in a circle of comrades,
laughing with delight
as the tankard approaches.
Though much has splashed into the room,
he holds the dregs with reverence,
drinks with sweet abandon
and throws the chalice into the fire,
where it burns to a puddle of gold.