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 golden water,
Black mountains,
A boat comes out from the mist afar...
The oars touching the water
And making it talk
To get rid of this silence...
The leaves are breathless,
And the birds without song.
The trees have light but no colour,
And the boatman is all alone.
The golden water,
Black mountains,
And stalks of grass shaking quietly...
Waiting for a dragonfly that’ll never come..
The golden water,
Black mountains,
Red palms...
And cool sand...
A loving motherly warmth...
The whole earth looks at us
And sees our eyes glow
Before it all turns dark
And becomes nothing.
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