We'll enter an arena of delight
to satisfy a primal need.
But while excited,
yet, my love,
I dread tonight.
We'll meet each other's
sense of taste and style.
Our histories
and our future
will unfold in every gesture.
Start this- you or I?
The old traditions
now no longer hold.
We all can be a Master
or can try.
Trust intuition?
Risk repas critique?
By now we're well past
going by the book.
Will knowledge, judgment
or technique decide,
or just a pinch
or twist or look?
Our first adventure.
Well, it's me or you.
We'll see now,
who's the chef, and
who's the sous?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem