The land is dry and barren
Rain and life are too distant
Yet I squeeze the sand in false expectation
For creative thoughts or seeds of fruition
Ideas are poured into the sand
In hopes of some fertilization
But it quickly soaks into the land
Leaving me with no creation
With a hope that the land will yield again
I water and seed and try in vain
To get an idea or a creation
From my muddled head
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem