The hand reaches the glass,
Religiously on the hour
The hand's developed a habit
The hand protects the liquor
The hand allows no other to share
It speaks only to the familiar eye
One’s eyes become glazed
Memory left hazy
But still, the hand reaches
The old faithful familiar
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Nia, this poem is so true - and hard hitting..great work