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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…

Surfer

 I watch the surfer on the beach;

How he adjusts to the waves so well,

How he conquers them big ones

And makes them small ones into calm water.

How he knows where the tongue of the sea will touch,

And how he escapes it every time.

I wish I could do the same.

I wish I could do the same

Here on land.

But the sands engulf me

And my feet are the only surf boards I have.

The sands engulf me

And I run to the sea to wash it off my mouth.

But then,

The waves catch me

And I die

Because again,

The only surf boards I have

Are my own feet.


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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…