Bitter brew from the Andes,
the haze blown, sea breeze.
Three nights of planned kills,
a numb mind, dead foes and friends.
Dazed, I walk slow dodging pits,
shadowy stalkers, blurred edges.
And then the vision, a familiar face;
she, in colour so rich and alive.
Clad in black, old-world charm;
the very smile, sun's shining.
Have you come back aye, for me, wings spread...
...The motor zooms, a rude horn.
Wake up now, these pills for you boy;
are these to ease the vein?
Or to leave like that king, in pain.
Alexander, veni, vidi! Vici a distant dream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem