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…
I'm a shell;
A dead clam upturned.
Yet I do not break if they step on me,
I do not hurt them either.
I lie in the sand,
And when they step on me,
I sink into it
Deeper
And deeper
Until they won't even see me
To collect me in a bucket
For their collection.
I don’t have the shape of those snail shells,
Or the glistening of the blue pearl.
I don’t have the music of dead trees,
Or smell of the sea
Once I’m taken away from it.
I'm a shell;
A dead clam upturned.
Yet I do not break if they step on me.
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