Temptation laced with promises,
We race toward the tomb;
Dependant on the memory,
Of grape, and vine, and womb.
Its slender sheen resplendent
It holds the truth within.
Entwines the soul in virtue
And undiscovered sin.
The crest foretells its merit,
The blend of thought and mind;
That soothes us though in our torment
And leads us to our kind.
Intolerance is nurtured
While seething anger burns;
And all our inhibitions
Revealed, emblazoned, shunned.
A tender sip of nectar,
Unleashes our desires,
And reassuring lustres,
Emblazon all our fires.
At last the cask is empty,
And haze replaces gloom;
A sleepy smile washed down with love;
Our dreams unfold, to soon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem