The Wine Still Untasted Poem by Henrik Berg

Nothing sweeter than the wine still untasted
Nothing greater than the song still unsung
No time better spent than a morning not wasted
No greater a weapon that has not to be swung

No flower with beauty like the seed 'fore it grew
And nothing more free than the bird 'fore it flew


Nothing more fresh than the things yet to come
Like the fruit from the tree that has yet to be grown
What is lovely to me, may be anguish to some
For no mysteries more thrilling than what still is unknown

For, nothing sweeter than the wine still untasted
So this longing, this love, it is not be to hasted
So I better imagine -our world- in your smile,
Than to find that your wine is both poison and vile