This is from a letter in the LHv manuscripts, among the texts in the Ritterkatalog eventually to be included in Reihe VIII of the Akademie Edition. To see a scan of the original in the online Ritterkatalog, go here.
I have been working on transcribing the letter, but it is too messy towards the end for me to make out a clearly significant portion of the text. I am uncertain of the recipient and of the date, but judging from the handwriting and from the style it is almost certainly from the end of Leibniz's Paris period, 1675 or 1676.
The letter begins with a disarmingly sincere avowal of jealousy on Leibniz's part, at not having received letters from the addressee, whoever he or she (but almost certainly he) may be, while knowing nonetheless that a certain Abbé de Canisy, based in Normandy, continued to maintain an active correspondence with him or her (but almost certainly him).
It then moves on to an account of a letter Leibniz himself had sent to the same Abbé, in which he advises him of the importance of prohibiting the consumption of cider in Normandy and Brittany. He writes:
[J]e m'érigea en donneur d'avis, et je luy conseilla de faire défendre l'usage du Cidre, par ce que cette boisson estoit dangereuse, qu'elle n'estoit pas assez cuite par le soleil, et qu'elle faisoit monter a la teste certaines fumées grossieres capables de troubler les esprits des peuples. J'appuya cecy par des raisons et des experiences, et il faut qu'on les ait communiquées au Roy d'Angleterre, car c'est dépuis ce temps la qu'il a defendu l'usage public du Caffé, pour des motifs tous semblables.
[I set myself up as an advice-giver, and I encouraged him to have the consumption of cider outlawed, because this beverage was dangerous, because it was not sufficiently cooked by the sun, and because it caused certain heavy vapors, capable of troubling people's minds, to rise to the head. I backed this up with reasons and with evidence, and these must have been communicated to the king of England, for it is at that time that he prohibited the public consumption of coffee on similar grounds.]
Leibniz then confesses somewhat bashfully that he also included a poem in the letter to the abbot, intended to supplement the argument he had given against drinking cider:
J'avois adjouté des vers, qui contiennent mes raisons en racourcy. Les voicy, si vous les voyez dignes d'estre lûs.
[I added some verses, which include my reasons in abbreviated form. Here they are, if you consider them worthy of being read.]
So then, if you too consider them worthy of being read, here they are:
Normans enfoncez les tonneaux
Versez ce dangereux breuvage
Qui d'un peuple tranquille et sage
Peut faire un amas de brebaux.
L'air Breton est contagieux
Gardez vous d'en tirer l'haleine
Faites faire la quarantaine
Aux paysages audacieux.
On vous accorde assez d'esprit
Mais le Cidre en prend la partie,
Et en cas de quelque folie,
Dieu sçait si le reste suffit.
Mais j'y suis peut estre trompé
Et la nature toute sage
Vous fait encor un avantage
quand le vin vous est refusé.
Car si vous faites tant de bruit
Avec le surplus de souplesse
Avec le reste de finesse
Que le Cidre n'a pas détruit
Que feriez vous si la boisson
Estoit un peu plus genereuse,
La metamorphose est facheuse
Qui change un Normand en Gascon.
I've tried to translate the poem in a way that maintains at least a minimum of its poetic elements, in particular the enclosing rhyme scheme of the stanzas, while nonetheless giving first priority to the preservation of the general meaning:
Break your barrels, Normans,
Pour out this dangerous drink
Which transforms a people who think
Into a nation of morons.
The Breton air is contagious,
So content yourselves with breathing it,
Rather than thinking of leaving it
To suck something more outrageous.
You're endowed with adequate mind,
But on cider you've only a part left,
And God knows if you'll have enough art left,
To put paid to life's madness in kind.
But perhaps here I wrongly opine
And nature, with clear-sighted vantage,
Has seen to your nation's advantage
In refusing to let you drink wine.
For if you make so much noise,
With so much inborn ability,
With what's left of the natural agility
That the cider in large part destroys,
Then imagine if your flascons
Caused still greater a transformation,
And made of the great Normand nation
A mash more befitting Gascons.