The Genie, Jayme, and a Mocha, A Very True Ballad

Across the Gulf, across the sea
The wind betrayed the scent of mocha.
It played – the wind – in tunes barocco,
I woke to this dream unseen.

Asleep, for trillions of years –
A genie, potent as they come,
The smell of coffee in the air
Has led me to this distant country.

Forget the lamps, and fancy bottles –
I simply slept from rotten wine,
And rotten women – out the bottom
I went from wizarddom… and whined,

And cried, creating mischief:
A sultan turned into a stump;
I sent a whole army itching,
My captain-genie stared, stunned…

He spoke, stern: “You have the talent,
But wine and women rot your mind:
You stole a million of talents*,
Your wishes due are far behind!”

I tried to reason: wretch - the sultan!
The women? – Captain, I am young –
They posed, so elegant and sultry…
The captain raged, my mouth yawned.

“Go sleep, oh wicked Ibn Batutta.
Go sleep for suns and moons to come.
I failed as your noble tutor,
You’re too insouciant, flippant, cunning.

You’ll only wake when one of beauty,
Artistic talent, simple charms
Will make a drink for you, in unity
Combining colors white and charred.”

I slept, and snored, and dreamt, and shuddered,
The years passed – but stayed the spell…
Much wine has stood on window shutters,
The beers brewed, and drained the wells.

The belles have graced the balls with waltzes,
With pretty women spun the Earth…
I could not wake – developed ulcers
From hunger, rain, and so forth…

And yet, the moment came – I woke!
Your magic hand has touched the cup.
I raced through highways, dunes, and groves
To gladly utter: “I have come!”

I’ll sip the mocha  - spell will shatter,
Or else – I’m doomed to sleep again
Among the hurricanes and shadows,
But I prefer another game…

For you, my friend, and dear savior,
I bring a gift of many dates
And pleasant wishes – do and savor
In coming hours, nights, and days.

But wait! – Alas, forgot the numbers…
What do I owe? – thousand dates?
A thousand nights? - So long my slumber…
A thousand wishes to be dared?

Or was it one and thousand wishes?
Or thousand one Arabian nights?
My thoughts are still confused, and swishing…
Your mocha – haven’t had enough.

Ah, yes – three wishes for the lady,
One Thousand Nights – that was a book.
And I am free, for greatness slated!
What does it mean? – you prying look?

Good-bye, my dear friend and actress,
Your grace and coffee saved my life;
Your smile, too  - a vital factor.
Forget me not, my rhyming lines.

I’m off to new adventures, wishes,
Perhaps you’ll save me once again.
I see a checkered board of bishops,
A clever, fun, insightful game…

Farewell, and save for me a mocha,
Adieu, and thank you, so long!
We’ll meet in Paris, or Morocco.
Salam Aleikum, and Shalom!


*Talents – units of weight of precious metal in ancient times (Greece, Rome, Egypt) around 30 kilograms. They also corresponded to the value of that weight. In others words – a sort of currency.