We had tea without honey
The conversation dragged
What did you say? I asked
and he said it again
What could he mean? Searching
for clues, I prolonged the failure
of clear thoughts
by looking around
In the bar mirror, I saw a thread
of my scarf on my coat
It was like a scratch
There's no sense in talking
if you behave like this, I'll go
my friend said and he went
Fifteen minutes later I got up
The tea had become cold
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Again a Bitter Aftertaste. Dashingly worded poem. Your tea will become cold constantly. A fantastic poem. Thanks for sharing, Zywa.