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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 melancholic hygge


 I drink wine by the fire

And get lost in myself...

I drink wine by the fire

As the rest of them pack stuff

And unpack stuff behind me.

I drink wine by the fire

And see in the flames little dancers;

All joyful

But none Holding hands...

No one belonging to anyone else,

Not realizing

They are dancing to the flicker of the same flame...

A flame now mellowing down

And down,

Exposing the dancers for once

In their steam cooked nudity...

Before they too crumble away Into embers

With no power of their own,

Hoping to land on something they could light...

Someplace where they can be born again.

I drink wine by the fire

And get lost in myself...

And the rest of them leave without me.


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