In the dining room tawny, fragrant
On a hint of fruit and paint, i take
Conveniently a dish, I do not know what dish
Belgian, and I let myself go in the chair immense.
Eating, happy and calm, listening to the clock.
It opens with a gust of wind the kitchen,
and enters , I wonder why, the maid.
Artfully disheveled, rumpled shawl,
And with uncertain finger touching his cheek,
velvet white-pink peach , and poses
a grimace with his mouth infant ,
to have me better accomodates , arranges around me the dishes
and then so… but she wanted a kiss..
slowly, “Look, says, I have cold on the cheek …”