Ovid viewed Liber Pater as the same as Bacchus (as did many Romans) and honored him as a god of poets. This is his festival day. Ovid was exiled on the remote Scythian coast on the Black Sea (Olbis, now in Romania) by Augustus.
Let the poets congregate, if only in spirit,
And praise the gods, the ecstatic one of ivy
And vine, Etrucasn Fufluns, Liber
Liberal father of this day and your consort, Libera,
And Ariadne too, raised to the heavens.
Let us lift our glasses in toast
To the endless metamorphoses,
The masquerades of gender,
And the display of the calyx and stamen,
The colors held by the vase,
The offerings of honey cakes, sweetening
The sound of waves on exile’s shores.
Such a day it is with the wine flowing
In generosity lifted beyond sorrow
In Ovid’s calendar and so
I offer these words.