i pick up stick and start drawing on sand
i love the displacement process evolving
creating fallows with remarkable ridges
i wonder if the pharoahs used their cane
to draw propose structure on their domain
easy to erase; flattened it with your slippers
i grab a handful of sand and hold it tight
i noticed they are escaping, freeing themselves
i loosen my grip and stayed hugging my palm
i grab handful, cover it with my other hand, soak it
i felt the heat coming out of it; i almost got burn
together they make difference, now it's your turn
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I would like to translate this poem