(50 days of torrid heat during summer)
from out of the south
a blast of desert heat,
blowing hot waves suffocating,
Dante's infermo has come to roost,
hovering enveloping,
driving Homo Erectus in doors,
seeking shelter from Sol's,
expellng mood, fumes hot and heavy
trees and flora hang listlessly
even the links of man made objects,
wilt and withdraw, tempo slows to fit,
the weary element of moods,
limbo with each breath,
the hot dirty yellow sun,
fogged by heat,
melts the brains dries up the juices of life
seems to say beware
you are not so tall, just finite and small,
whispering hot winds bring, mantle cover of dirt,
glass lusterless, smeared and blurred,
life labors beneath an eiree weird mist,
grit your sandy teeth,
you never get accustomed
and still many peoples
vie for such a pace,
will the keeper of the winds
and the gods of war, spare us,
man made calamities greater
than these fifty days
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem