How fitting that this wind greet me,
This sandy breeze control me,
Force my eyes to tear, then close,
I so slowly formulate my vagabond thoughts into coherent sentences,
It amazes me you’re still here to hear me.
Here, like nowhere else, one sees my growth,
My learning process,
Here, like nowhere else, you see my flaws,
My changing thoughts.
This wind has two facades:
Cool on a tired face and cooler with respect to the humidity-
And it still harshly takes lives,
Lies of its tame and nature and innocence,
Beware for dehydration creeps quickly with overconfidence in such winds.
It takes so much energy to keep these cataracted eyes open,
(this wind, this fatigue),
everyone flies but I stand still.
Still, you see?
I’m nowhere where neither you nor I thought I’d be,
But I can’t clearly see at any rate
So what of you am I expecting?
What a powerful wind!
What a might strong force…
I see nothing but particles of sand in the air, in the eyes.
The wind shrieks like bullets do,
Like mortar shells,
Yonder the sky sleeps,
Embraced in a wint’ry comforter of fog.
It must be sweating in such heat,
It must be shivering in such strong breeze,
It must be blind in the fatal accumulation of
Raw raindrops,
Cloud parts,
Sand,
Heavy sweeping wind.
At times I believe the sky is poorer than i.
Shivers up my spine, heavy breathing, I taste
The sweat in your salty sweet kisses, shriek
Like the wind when it hisses like bullets.
I don’t know the meaning of the temperature anymore,
Or the meaning of the incredible force of the wind.
All the air is dust,
Molecules of dirt that involuntarily hitchhiked
With a heavy-footed wind.
This would be the best time for a
Terrorist’s realization of a plan,
‘cause I don’t see a damned thing,
and anyway I’m busier with my thoughts and meaningless poetry
than with deciphering what stands behind this
thick layer of visible molecules
masquerading this eccentric horizon.
How this wind suits my energy!
There’s this look on your face when I tell you these thoughts…
This is the closest it gets to raining in summer.
Her embrace, I’ll never forget her embrace.
Or that look of yours,
Or that smell of the process of purity
That only occurs under the influence
Of these strong desert winds
Carrying sand.
This sandy breeze control me,
Force my eyes to tear, then close,
I so slowly formulate my vagabond thoughts into coherent sentences,
It amazes me you’re still here to hear me.
Here, like nowhere else, one sees my growth,
My learning process,
Here, like nowhere else, you see my flaws,
My changing thoughts.
This wind has two facades:
Cool on a tired face and cooler with respect to the humidity-
And it still harshly takes lives,
Lies of its tame and nature and innocence,
Beware for dehydration creeps quickly with overconfidence in such winds.
It takes so much energy to keep these cataracted eyes open,
(this wind, this fatigue),
everyone flies but I stand still.
Still, you see?
I’m nowhere where neither you nor I thought I’d be,
But I can’t clearly see at any rate
So what of you am I expecting?
What a powerful wind!
What a might strong force…
I see nothing but particles of sand in the air, in the eyes.
The wind shrieks like bullets do,
Like mortar shells,
Yonder the sky sleeps,
Embraced in a wint’ry comforter of fog.
It must be sweating in such heat,
It must be shivering in such strong breeze,
It must be blind in the fatal accumulation of
Raw raindrops,
Cloud parts,
Sand,
Heavy sweeping wind.
At times I believe the sky is poorer than i.
Shivers up my spine, heavy breathing, I taste
The sweat in your salty sweet kisses, shriek
Like the wind when it hisses like bullets.
I don’t know the meaning of the temperature anymore,
Or the meaning of the incredible force of the wind.
All the air is dust,
Molecules of dirt that involuntarily hitchhiked
With a heavy-footed wind.
This would be the best time for a
Terrorist’s realization of a plan,
‘cause I don’t see a damned thing,
and anyway I’m busier with my thoughts and meaningless poetry
than with deciphering what stands behind this
thick layer of visible molecules
masquerading this eccentric horizon.
How this wind suits my energy!
There’s this look on your face when I tell you these thoughts…
This is the closest it gets to raining in summer.
Her embrace, I’ll never forget her embrace.
Or that look of yours,
Or that smell of the process of purity
That only occurs under the influence
Of these strong desert winds
Carrying sand.
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