O delicate cup, where foam and coffee meet,
Thy silken surface, brushed by tender hand,
Doth mirror clouds where sky and earth do greet,
A fleeting scene, in milk and coffee planned.
In morning’s light, thou art a gentle balm,
Thy scent like summer’s breath, so rich and deep;
Thou bring’st to weary hearts a sense of calm,
And in thy warmth, a solace we may keep.
What artistry lies in thy humble guise,
Where swirls of white on tawny seas do blend,
As though from Heaven’s hand such beauty lies,
To ease our mortal cares as day doth end.
So here I sip, enraptured and entranced,
A fleeting joy in life’s most simple dance.
by 查特-哥破特
