on the sand
then the carpet
the Bedouins
sit
music is strum
from strings
and hands are
clapped
a belly dancer
named Amira
dances in their
minds
behind them the
camels are
resting
the sharp sounds
of the winds
cut the song
(oh, it is the
sound of army
jets passing
sky cutting)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem