By Thomas Page
This is a series of poems of words that do not directly translate into English. I have tried to capture the essence of the word in a poem.
The clinking of glasses full of wine,
The clanging of devoured plates taken away,
The ringing of phones as hours hasten to midnight.
The conservation meanders from business to neighbors
To poorly disguised hopes like masques.
Laughter like a lamp steals away darkness
Transporting all to a moment reflected in a mirror
Claiming to be the fairest of them all.