Creatures move freely;
They are blood suckers,
Come out after the sunset.
They love the smell of blood
And drink it till death.
We all sit in the room,
With red and white wines;
And drink and talk;
Talk and drink till sunrise.
With each peg, we move
in different directions.
Someone explains Milton,
Another talks about Ibsen
The third one recalls his early life;
With teenage girls and their smile.
All are eager to take a puff;
The room fills with smoke.
It is the city of big buildings;
But this room is sinking under the earth
Each one has dream for greatness;
And wine is the ladder to it.
Might be some of them touch the Zenith;
Might be some of them collapse.
It is the process of making history,
Being part of this process is glorious.
Between the bloody creatures and wine;
Life is acting like a real hero.
Its' roar makes the room alive;
If you do not believe in me;
Come and drink with us endless wine.
I am sure you will learn our language,
And tell...''Really!! it is the life"