Here you will find the Poem The Dancing Socrates of poet Julian Tuwim
I roast in the sun, old wretch... I lie, and yawn, I stretch. Old am I, but full of pep: When I take a slug from the cup I sing. My ancient bones bask in the sun's glow, And my curly, wise, grey head. In that wise head, like woods in spring Hums and hums a wiser wine. Eternal thoughts flow and flow, Like time.