The loneliness makes bigger the animal that you have inside
And then you search for a refuge, a hug to hide.
Life is a deceit, an infertile solitude without a hug.
The passions increase and strengthen the despair of loneliness.
Then you get the bottle in your hands.
You sacrifice your soul for a few moments of untrue companionship.
The drink makes you see life as you like it to be and not as it exists in reality.
The alcohol is not more than madness in a bottle
But you sometimes like to feel more alive and crazy, than alive and dead.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I dig it; pretty profound. I think you summed up the drunk, to the A, for alcohol. `But you sometimes like to feel more alive and crazy than alive and dead.' and who cannot relate to that ~ why we love? .. best care, sjg