The streets of forgetfulness are forever gray

Gray in different shades and forms.

When the twilight breaks and diffuses and

The sky gathers a twilightish mist,

My mind that plays with the uncountable encounters

Like the swaying tree-tops in the monsoon wind,

Gathers slowly all the solitary days' turbulent ends

In reason and in madness.



But in madness alone,

That the streets frame its colours

Around the mid-day sun,

In solitude and in despair.

The invisible light that it uses to halo itself around,

Encircles my mind

When I count the numberless seasons in my hands,

And wait for the approaching hour.