While I’m pondering upon Political Philosophie, here’s a translation attempt. [Edited in 2017.] The original poem dates back to the early 1920s.
A half-forgotten comfort,
The blessing of a night carouse!
A sip — and you need nothing,
A sip — and you want more,
And life before the unsober eye
So deeply is bared —
Like this supple back
Of the woman sitting near.
I see the links of the narrow spine
I press my lips to them for a moment —
And powder dusts my mouth.
The carefree creature’s laughing,
And I’m relieved to mix
With the bliss of knowing naught.