What will be will be
It was raining all day he sat morosely
on the balcony, today he sits on the terrace
and is still pessimistic despite sunny weather.
He wants to go back to his cottage in Algarve
to soak up the atmosphere of what once was
say hello to the trees, birds and bees and
things that annoyed him like dog crap outside
his front door and the holes in the road
lugging firewood, sleep under three duvet and
on top of two mattresses, he is not a princess
hear dogs barking in the night and feel safe.
Last time he was home had forgotten the keys
had to break a window inside the yard to get in,
despite this, he had slept well to the choir
of howling dogs, with a belly full of wine and bacalao.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Aloha Oskar... Cheers... It has been more than a moment... The lifestyle of the consummate batchelour? No mention of the phat cubans? howling dogs, broken window, pot holes, pet shyte, hard to get to sleep at night... paradise... no, paradise has burned! All of the best from this life, to you, and all of your relations... Michaelw1two