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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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A blind dove

 The blind dove

A white blind dove

Sat on a tree

He had no morning or light

For nothing he could see.

The doves having sight

To spring and autumn see

Laughed aloud

And all around their feathers flee.

One day the forest roared

And the trees all burning down came

To light the grass and dry leaves

In quick, spreading flame.

The ones who saw the light

Unrolled their wings in pride

And the blind with his toned ears

Followed along behind.

The rising ash turned their wings black

And they their splendour lacked.

They pricked and scratched their feathers all

Until they had no feathers at all.

It seems too wise to have sight.

Later they saw no day, no light.

For from the clouds they fell into the flame

For a mistake so stupid and lame.

The blind dove still flew ahead

Before the twigs and trees could turn red.

When he couldn't feel the heat,

He thanked the lord

For carrying him in his hand

Away from the burning gallore.

He called his friends aloud

But no voice in his ear arrived

Because all of them were gone

And none were alive.


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