The stir is the circle of fate br Chewed to remain forever awake br Meditation in mocha before its discovery br From soils in Africa the bean in Arabica br Purity of the romance in walls adored br Mud and water and beans in jute br Down the fingers for the texture br br On the nose with eyes closed br Perception of divine yet the beauty br With both hands for the eyes see br Fumes like the hairs of love br Like dusk after the sunset br Eyes twilight br First sip in creamy froth not unlike br br In slow heat brewing the cup br Hence from where it is said life began br To the other sip goes the consciousness br Unreason still in unself now br Unfold the variousness in cup small br What mystery when dark of the chocolate br br With Havana leaf and glass of smoke br After the wine in third course br It kills with donuts from the hands br Old lady had been for long preserving br Bavarian apple with lemon for buds br br Ode to wine and ode to olive br Ode to coffee in ware molded br Made from earth of the Persian soil br Perfected is it in Italia or Gaul br With wine dampened cooked in holy fire br Who the prophets with angles now br The mystic declares his own rules br br My love the many names and flavors br Still brown beans are the hazel of your eyes br This ode I write to the taste of blood br Dried though on luscious lips br From my heart the words I spell br br By the last sip of the cup in hand br I have loved you from ages br Like my drunken eyes today br They asked me what tavern last night br What cup in whose hand and who was the love br 1102009br br Sadiqullah Khanbr br