My empty goblet
Is filled with non-existing wine
(To your eye)
(You see me as crazy)
He plays
He sings
Words clear (To heart)
Weightlessly he dances
So does she
Hair floating in the air
I am drunk
You, in a bar
Sit at the counter
Then order a draft beer
Looking down at her cleavage
She has it for sale; you don’t care
Neither does she
You are drunk
We are drunk
Yours, physical
Mine, mental
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem