A Bedouins call to another nomad
Time to pack up on camel’s back
Its that time of the year
That we have to all leave from here
To settle again in some mirage land
The majestic shapes that fill landscapes
That yearning for oasis on most hardy trails
they are the panacea for nomadic souls
Away from sand dunes there are no stories to be told
Rooted to a places is not meant for me
I am a Nomad, and that sets me free...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem