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Loud Rain

The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
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Happiness

 The child kicks the ball.

The ball may return.

Or the child will run behind it.

It may hit

A wall,

A thorny bush,

A window of an old man

Waiting to see someone,

Waiting to hear from someone.

It may go over a wall;

A wall

Without a gate.

A wall

The child can't climb.

But the child will climb,

Even if his toes ache and knees bleed.

The child will climb,

And he will climb back,

Even if his toes ache and knees bleed

Again.

And the child will kick the ball

Again.

Because that's what it was made for.


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