The boat Trip
I had bought a crate of beer, my friend and I was going
out fishing, he had a motorboat in the middle of the boat,
a smelling thing but it brought us forward.
Only he had devious other plans, came with a girlfriend and
her friend too and I was stuck with the ugly one.
We crossed the fjord and in a bay on a small island sat
drinking till the crate was empty. He went ashore with his
girlfriend to have sex behind some bushes I sat there
and was not romantically inclined to flirt with the girl who
only a mother could love but not an eighteen- year- old.
The silence of us two on board was deep but not meaningful
I felt rancorous and she perhaps felt the same.
But I remember we were drinking Heineken and for some
reason the beer was called Berlin, I still wonder why?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem