An open-bistro in Boat Basin's stench,
where a green tacky dangling diner set,
sits six friends off and around a square bench.
Cheap china spread upon a matted net.
Ambiance such; a piper spends his time
blowing a tune, amidst a bustling knot.
Waiter quests to collect much needy dime,
fulfilling the order: 'six teas brought hot'
Friends take each others' in sheer amusement
Each work to fabricate, a niggling tweak,
None wins, nor can escape from this torment
Finally all hush, to get one to speak
Lifting his cup to the awaiting plea
He smirks 'Um this is not my cup of tea'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem