I convivial myself to death-
One cup of coffee to awake my life-
To me, bloody kitchen mornings; seem so far-
Without it, morning is a bloody savage-
Without coffee, morning stand as a horrible accident-
Without tea and coffee I would be pontificating like a wild animal-
Every now and then, interesting precipitation walks to the kitchen-
Speculative air to erase sleep out of my smug face-
It makes a morning a morning -
It drive my head to Great Spirit-
Coffee, a best friend to my lips-
And my best medicine twist up to morning-
A best old friend to have when I write-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Speculative air to erase sleep out of my smug face- It makes a morning a morning - It drive my head to Great Spirit-.. enjoy your koffee. a lovely poem with lots of simplicity. thanku dear poet. tony