It's my story
Has to make
no sense
Here it rains
In desert planes
Shadows
Of dark clouds
Play timeless games
Deluges and droughts
Take turns
To prove their clout
Here cacti blossom
And mirages reign
A lone gypsy girl
Scales this landscape
It's her excuse
to escape
Sandstorm of memories
That fiercely inundate
Every pore of her being
Its impossible, to extricate
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem