sometimes i want to live,
the life of a desert,
with silence and indifference,
with hiss of night winds,
changing my shapes,
my sands may settle,
sometimes with sun,
echoes with loneliest cries,
gigantic images of sandstorms,
on my parched lips,
i may inhale,
whole heat of burning sun,
and my splendid day of love,
and fated hate,
may deplore to die,
the rumbling cries of wind thrusts,
may shake the endless horizons.