Of my quiet mornings,
you are ,coffee ,
the bitter solitude,
black inspired expression,
quick evasion, before returning
to the prison of hours ,
coffee sorcerer and my jailer ...
Flavour of seasons ,that I glean
from the gaze of a girl lost in life
that I love the instant of an atoll
somewhere in winter ...
Small faithful coffee ,what\'s new ?
In front of a cup lmmersed
in its melancolia ,
Dr Freud makes an appointment
with anonymity ...
Coffee ,my jolly coffee ,
so desired ,and so quickly consumed ,
are you telling me the truth ?
Augur in a porcelain cloud,
aroma \'s subtle divinity ,
tempo di Roma ...
what kind of interbreeding
is my body made of ?
Italian or African seeds ?
frenzied samba or sleepy tambora ?
Coffee,your time-honoured ritual
makes me scorn the scents of Ceylon ...
And my day begins ,just as an empty mug
reminds me of my worries ...
I deposit my obolio in the neural system
of the smiling high priestress ...
See you tomorrow kind genius !