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I. The philosophical coffee machineEdit

This poem appears on the Main Page

--Wikipoet 11:51, 26 Oct 2005 (UTC) •


The life is like coffee grains in the grinder:
one is in front, one is after and another one a little bit after,
all, however, go to the same future.
Often they move or they push themselves,
the large one and the small one,
gathering all at the entry.
And so living,
mixed by the hand of the fate,
we spin when a button release,
if we are weak or if we are strong,
president or tramp,
without understanding it,
we go down and sink,
to drop in the cup of the death.

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