To my right are stools
Cylinders of steel with the base
Screwed to the floor
(Linoleum in blue and designed)
Sitting round and footrest
In front are tables
All yellow with the chairs
Painted blue
Everything's standard
Mass produced, similar
But people
They sit, eat and drink
Many times they speak
And that is my main base
Hamburgers
Egg sandwich and salads
(Or others)
With big bites and small
With napkin, back of hands
And whispers
And hot mikes
On the cells and tablets
Mostly laugh and smile
Sometimes frown and cries
'I am out.'
Spacious is the yard
Cement seats and tables
A fountain and a pond
And windows and windows
But the best are the trees
Though few, un-trimmed
They're dancers in the breeze
They are heirs of nature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem