Troubled mind turns to drink,
Takes the problem away for a while.
Empty bottles all around signal their problems are going,
Though it may only be for a while.
In the morning with a thumping head they return,
Now a double will take them away,
Now they’ve tripled,
A viscous circle,
One that only drink can only solve.
Until the next day,
When they return with malice.
Finding hidden bottles in dark places,
Lost sight of all that is reality,
Life is simple through glassy eyes.
The money dries up,
The drink still flows,
At the cost of life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a wise and compassionate poem clearly describing the hell a man puts himself through trying to escape misery only to create more misery a fine poem