MY CUP OF COFFEE
(1943)
Through the glass, the afternoon is dying
And I get to thinking as I have my cup of coffee.
Memories come to mind, triumphs and sorrows
The lights and shadows of a time gone by.
The street is empty, like my future
Friends and affection, yesterday’s deal,
Life’s ghosts, deceits along the road
that I recall while having my cup of coffee.
One day, happily I got to know you, city
I came bringing poetry and dreams of success,
I saw you from the top of my rooming house
And my heart felt a giddiness of life.
My people were far away, lost far, far away
Your night was close, your night intensified,
Your streets took me, your bright lights misled me
No one was to blame, no one but me.
The afternoon breeze stirs the curtain
The hand of memory presses on my heart,
Autumn’s sorrow makes the mist all the more dense
It sneaks through the crack of my desolation.
Useless pessimism, desire to be sad
Obsession with always thinking of the past,
Ghosts of the past that keep coming back
When in the evening I have my cup of coffee.
English translation by Paul Bottomer ©