A rugged sidewalk cried hard by the way-side; Its fissures could not hold their tears anymore. A puny man pushed a red cart in the tide Down a darkling, narrow street in Salammbรด.* He mumbled to the waves on his way to the market As he gasped behind his laden chariot.
His merkabah bore many a lost things Which he had found buried in the quicksand. Among them a fountain pen and a helmet, A pair of eyeglasses, and a trumpet. I wondered, gazing at the old manโs washed face: "Will this worn-out scene ever reach the marketplace?" ยฉ LazharBouazzi