After three glases of wine with your steak
you tell that everybody can hear
how your life is turning to nothing,
that you do continually hope to meet the right man
and with a serviette you wipe off your lips
and you tell why you are devorced,
what it takes to take you to bed
while covertly you look at me,
you tell of your only child
who is away in a dormitory
and I know how disastrous your love,
your whole life is
while I do not even know your,
are not looking at you
and are not even at your table.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem