Moment at the Café

Translated from the Irish Gaelic, Nóiméad sa Chaifé

In the whirring of the coffee machine 

While conversations drift like mist, 

I find for myself

A moment of solace, 

A slow, seeping sigh 

From my wearying soul 

Lost adrift, out to sea

For I want nothing more 

Than this single sweet instance 

As coffee flows from its cup, 

And fills my heart, made warm.

Out on the street, the rat race goes on, 

Life’s great marathon, we 

Run to earn silver and gold

But now, let me rest 

And enjoy the peace 

I sip, to savour.

-

Nottingham, 8 April 2016 

Author's Note

Translated from the Irish, “Nóiméad sa Chaifé”, published in Fás | Growth