A poem by the Swedish poet Lucidor (Lasse Johansson, 1638-74)

I would be foolish to spend my life grieving

I would be foolish to spend my life grieving

Even when things went completely awry/

Fortune is subject to pitching and heaving/

Wait and she’ll right herself up by and by;

All the world finds what is motley most pleasing/

Many must live on coarse bread hard and dry.

Fortune, misfortune spend life alternating/

Every beginning must end before long:

Drunken men’s hiccups anon are abating/

Joy follows weeping/ tears give way to song;

He who with pointer the truth’s indicating

May from truth’s plank find he’s falling headlong.

On all the trees heaven’s dew is descending/

But once the earth them with sap strongly stacks

Till they the sky defy/ who can be sending

All crashing down/ with no shaft to his axe?

Finger-rubbed worm-eaten trees soon start bending/

Many think won what they finally lack.

So let misfortune and fortune keep fighting

Till I can see/ Who will win or withdraw

No one a coach horse too hard should be riding

If you exhaust him/ he’ll then vex you sore;

Though persecution one must be abiding

Minds will be free when the body’s no more.

So shall my blood and my heart remain carefree/

At envy hate constraint/ L a s s e ne’er pales/

No one dares do more than his own fair share be/

Justice (despite all injustice) prevails/

Flee if you can from misfortune stay snare-free/

Prison means longing if fortune should fail.

Think my friend that one should therefore perforce be

Gay/though it might not one’s leaning convey/

Fortune is fickle/ unknown must her course be/

Yesterday’s guest/ may well leave you today;

So my hope is that you learn to endorse me

Write you are gay just like me come what may.

To see the original, go to here.