by Bruce E. Stoker 2003
Chile Peppers, burning mouth,
In the dishes from the south.
What immortal tongue or hand
Dare touch the fire and yet stand?
From what burning pits of flame
Come thine searing heat untame?
On what ground did one dare tread?
To what piquant goal was led?
And what knife, and what steel,
Could render flavor one could feel?
When thy flesh reminds of fire,
What dread chef shared thy dread ire?
What the cauldron? Hell on earth?
In what furnace was thy birth?
What inferno? What dread grasp
Dared your scalding fruit to clasp?
When the sun cast its first rays,
Warming earth with temperate days,
Did He smile his work to see?
Did He who made the snow make thee?
Chile Peppers, burning mouth,
In the dishes from the south.
What immortal tongue or hand
Dare touch the fire and yet stand?