Latino ladies dance and burn; Deep
within the corridors of my concern
Dancehalls have besoilled my mind
But these eyes they smile! And there is;
Numerous nights of mocca angles kind
And the bed where I once woke
Self-indulgent shadows of our night
Shapely suttle Spanish sway she spoke
And as my eyes grow dimmmer
My coffee cup begins to glimmer
Maria’s skin begins to shimmer
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
'Numerous nights of mocca angles kind' Rachel Ann Butler