In december it rains
the wine glass stands still
duped by those crystal rain drops
the wine becomes those drops
those drops metamorphosed into wine.
Those eyes are still-
wide open, not haggard,
dupped by those rain drops
the exigence dispelled
the wine and those eyes are one-
demise is impending.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
18 proof ACID-RAIN WINE