This dreary darkened sky

in which I float benumbed

into my Enola-gay filled with ambitions failed

and when it will collide with the towers of madness

I'll fall off to the ground

hope will flow out from my wounds

some unfit dog shall spell a tear of grief



Far at east, by the silky way

the mirage of a forgotten town rescuse me

in storms religions lost and empty sanctuaries

I let my body being slowly buries along other fools



To the silence we belong,

and the silence in this wilderness throve

the Via Crucis across the Dead Sea

then caught in Samarkand bazaar dream



No, don't search for me at North

where the nonsense of my frienzied notes lead

as now I am the Czar



In sleep I spread my veils

as day is much too harsh to sail

while dream are bright and manifold