Sweet Wine
makes here, to eternity,
there, to infinity
bless my wife
bless my being
bless this wine
for what I'm seeing,
succulent grapes sweet
or sour turned to wine
loosen the tongue
for free and easy verse
a second cup makes the room larger
the company cozier,
a third glass makes, me ten feet tall
my consort prettier than all
bad is bad
but worse is,
worse than that
moral is good
immoral is bad
amoral is neither
or either
the square root of
mortality, is still one death
but twice over,
immortality is not,
infinity of eternity,
just some illusion
by conspiring
and aspiring mortals
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem