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…
Is the beach devoid of footprints
Or are there so many that they bury each other.
Either way, it's the same.
There is no path for anyone to follow.
And no one can make a new path that lasts,
Because one buries the other.
Then some people try to surf;
At least,
Those lines in the water will last longer.
Is the beach devoid of footprints
Or are there so many that they bury each other.
Either way,
No one goes anywhere while being noticed.
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