Style,
It's my style,
Said he
Smoking a cigar
Held in between
The fingers
And he lighting it
After placing
On the lips
And it burning.
Lighting
And he taking the puffs,
Smoking,
Smoking
With the puffs
Taken
And puffed out,
The smokes curling,
Curling above,
The ashes shaken
From the embers
And smoking,
Smoking
A cigar
In style
Going after
Modernity,
A modern man he,
A stylist he
Smoking a cigar
Going after modernity,
After his habit
And now he cannot without
As if cigars were his life
And smoking the cigar,
Threw he away the butt,
Ay, the lighting butt
Crushed he
With his boots
A smoker he
Repeated it again,
Lo, see you,
Lighting another
From a new pack
To place on the lips,
Said he,
Style, it's my style,
Smoking the second! .
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Smoking With the puffs Taken And puffed out, The smokes curling, Curling above, smoking cigar in style and expressing it so wonderfully that the reader feels that he is smoking in style.......... thank you dear poet. tony