Singing in the chorus
I forgot myself;
A clap from the crowd
Solitary and sweet
Reverberated in my bosom;
Oh, are you in the crowd?

I sang into my fathom
Bringing the last drop out.
The chorus was magical.
Again a clap in the crowd
Solitary and sweet;
Are you alone?

Lights are dim and pale
Life a fairy tale;
From street to street,
Town to town,
The wagon moved;
Hamlets and oases covered,
Camels stood beside the camps
Heads rising, attuning to our chorus;
Infernal birds slowed their wings
To receive our vibrant songs.

Mountains had throughways to enter,
Orchestrated by the passing of time;
Warriors and seers passed by
Accompanied by the stirrings of history
And the tambourines of victory
And the melancholy harping of losses.
The chorus moved along,
Pedestrians of the ages.

Through deserts and mountains
Plains and shores
I heard your clapping
Solitary and sweet
From eternity to eternity
You travel parallel
To the paths I traverse
Singing to generations
In the moments of sighs.
Between the strings of notes
I wonder whether you could identify
The strain that rose from my bosom.
Did you ever identify me in the chorus?
I could never find you.

As time passed by
The last flute was separated from my reed.
My bosom was empty
No note was sung.
You clapped still
Unto the last breath
I piped into the flute.

I saw a glass jar broken
At the spot where you clapped.
It remained in pieces
With no contents showing.
A breeze was blowing
Along the passes I came,
Wet and warm.
It touched my cold and dry arm.