(in answer to Ian Raper)
I wait on you in Burgundy's in the Colonnade
where candles burn on the fourteenth of February,
somebody plays "Ballade pour Adeline" on a piano
and there is a small sincere gift in my hand.
I am an accountant and poet and are totally sober,
the dress of the waitress is short and her buttocks sway enticingly
when she brings a large pot of tea and I do pour some in a cup,
it's very romantic and the light is faint,
I wonder if you are coming when she smiles as if she wants to swallow me
but the moment that you enter everyone is dumbfounded,
heads turn when men look at you and women secretly do glance
but all other people disappear when you come near.
Love at its best is that people really do trust each other,
it's more than just a liking; it's an intense way of regard.
[Reference:"Die rendezvous" (The rendezvous)by Ian Raper in his poetry-book: "Oorlopers."]
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem