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…
Blue windows open on yellow walls
Like eyes which couldn’t sleep
Due to the stench of the gutters,
The loud clubs,
The streetlights,
The constant tickling of wet brown leaves
From the wild trees
That struggle to show
That they are still alive.
Blue windows open on yellow walls
Like eyes that see and show
At the same time
This state of the world
Where everyone has enough;
Just enough wine to dilute a sorrow,
Just enough cigars to burn a leach off of one’s heart,
Just enough pills to put one into a trance
Which one may
Or may not awake from…
More blue windows open on yellow walls
Like eyes that couldn’t sleep…
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