Rain is being sucked out of deeply dark-hearted fortified clouds by Earth’s gravity.That’s the way a greedy child lactates generous breasts of its mother.
Walking on Amsterdam’s sidewalks in such weather does not appeal almost anyone.
Streets are gloomy and void. Sky is rattling at times just like a tiger roaring and crying from pain. Nobody wants to feel the burden of the pang so tangible and loud and incomparable with our own teeny trivial pains.
However, if not for my endless cold and coughing I wish to take a celestial bath right now to sense a link with the skies deep under my skin precisely for letting away whatever nonsense that keeps me puzzled these days.
4 comments:
Young and noble Tajik man under rains in a sidewalk of Amsterdam street...
Do you think that you have a special and different fate tnan your classmates abd friends and that is why you are there under rain today?
I hope so...
Fates are various indeed. But as a Tajik I share a huge part of other Tajiks' destinies: we belong to the same lovely piece of land that is still struggling to identify itself; we belong to a generation of hide-and-seek players with nothing essential to leave behind. What keeps my hope alight is to see some of us still clinging on our hopes and trying to do something
you know - one italian poet said ages ago ' there is nothing worth of my mum's silence..."
hey, just wanted to share it with you...
That's absolutely true. But I didn't get your point dear
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