on a dry desert
the night is cold
the moon and
stars keep on
shining, and on
the day the
caravan keeps
on moving,
the sun and dusts
keep them
going
the dream for
the oasis
somewhere
or perhaps of
the sea or
perhaps of the
river
still fills the mind
for those
who are searching
for the water.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem