"THE TAVERN I like the dark nooks/ of the dormant taverns,/ where people culminate in the excess of song,/ I like blasphemed and light things,/ and deep wine glasses,/ where the mind rejoices,/ a magical level of thought./ too foolish it is to cry over a lost love/ ill-lived and fickle,/ magical the sharp taste of unharmed wine,/ better the intoxication of genius,/ better yes better/ the deaf investigation of the flow of vines;/ I love the taverns/ that speak the subtle language/ of the tongue of Bacchus,/ and then in the taverns/ there is the name of Charles/ written in golden letters."
Created by d'Araprì