An adolescent gypsy girl,
Tanned of skin,
Sitting across the lake,
contemplates the stagnant water.
She meets herself in the mirror of water,
And finds herself as the water is.
Air smears the water;
Water blots her smiling face.
She seeks herself again,
But finds only unruly waves.
She murmurs,
“ You waves do not shelter me
As mankind has done”
Invigorating morning,
Colorless drops dance-
with sultry blows of wind
Musical sip at tea hotel,
And the day begins.
A small, murky room,
Where an old man lives with Nothingness;
He reads books,
But Nothingness besieges him in pages.
While lying on cot as old as he,
He sets his gaze at an old-fashioned spherical watch
And childishly counts the tic-tic of it;
But nothingness does bump into there.
Going to the attic,
he opens window panes,
gazes at shimmering stars, crescent moon and floating clouds,
Nothingness follows him there too.
He finds but nothingness.
He utters the words,
“everything is Nothingness with whom I live”
And sleeps with it on creaking cot,
Sleeps…
