To drive a drink is abolishing the practice of good nature,
It is drinking of water and ice, some divine nomenclature.
They jolt the brain and extinguish a fire in the mind,
Dropping, dragging, but paddling it, always behind.
This is hygiene, lovely, beauty and combined with numbers
That sign an audacious move, movement of the blessed still encumbers.
I love blessed dreams waking and nudging,
Both of them hate it, in napping too deep of imaging.
I love drinking hated juices so wild of oil,
As oil drove me dumb as a darling can spoil.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem