Coffee is called Latte now.
The café near the train station in Loule
there was a café that sold coffee and tea
cakes and sandwiches too.
It closed for two-month work was done inside
and I was full of foreboding
The person who had bought the place had gone to
hotel school and had great ideas.
It was as I thought, all modern style, with baristas selling
latte this and latte that, one coffee with decoration on top
would have cost me my lunch money.
All I wanted was a cup of coffee with a drop of milk, but
no, it had to be Latte or nothing, pondering this option
I left with nothing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem