In hoc genimine vitis es รณperis mรกnuum hรณminum
O, fruit of the vine
Cuius culmen in
How ebullient, you grapes
boistrous in the summer sun
What a fools errand
believing you a native
of other soils
How you grew on the mountains
saddling two continents
How you spread over seas
in Greek and Phoenician holds
Oh, your pressed flavor
to drive hunter-gathers
to tilling the earth
from running down big game
to simple mountain herding
How a vine-grown fruit
emerges from the plethora
of earth’s flora
to seduce all peoples
to luxuriate in taste
Of all the cosmos
fermented juice of pressed grapes
changed humanity
to raise civilization …
to end the life of the Earth
Frank J. Tassone 
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