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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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Birdsong


 A yellow bird sits on the standing plank of a fallen fence

And watches the lake shine.

It sings this song for someone.

But for who?

The men in the speedboat drown in the engine’s erring.

And the wind has it's own music to play.

A yellow bird sits on the standing plank of a fallen fence

And sings.

But for who?

The water enjoys it

And dances,

Breaking the lines of light that have been there for long

Like wrinkles on an old forehead.

A yellow bird sits on the standing plank of a fallen fence

And sings.

But for who?

Maybe it's for the water

And maybe for me.

“It's ready.” He said.

The bird was on a stick

Rotating above the fire.

Now the flames sing too.


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