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…
The hot air balloon rises and the basket sways.
And I watch it
With my toes in the golden water,
Making the gold red hot where it touched my feet.
The hot air balloon rises and the basket sways,
And things having no one to hold them
Fall off
And often break.
Now it has risen above the trees;
A blob cut out of the sky
Glowing like iron on the anvil
That will soon become armour and lose it's colour.
The hot air balloon rises,
Has risen,
Rose,
Paddled away.
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