Brewed like gold from
lead pounds, and thick,
the stream out from black
hands as burnt, to drop
from pints the shine
like amethyst and as dull
gems more gray then rocks. The
alchemist who sweats over
himself- with coffee, not boiling
from the pot- opals and
diamonds grimace there...
Pale as the moon at night.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A beautiful poem, so well written Rocky thank you for sharing!