Listen to those quiet old streets,
A throng of old people,
Soaked with years they’ve gone through
Bending meekly and closing their eyes,
You’ll hear them if you close your eyes.
Notes fall from the heavens
As if on this earth’s piano roll
Arpeggio from the heavens
Gray angles play them overhead
I have never seen god, but now
We have a friendly rendezvous,
In the streets I walk
And now I see his tears.


Listen here, the lapping of tiny oceans,
And the croaks of delight
From the sneaking strangers

Or listen, the Apsaras,
They have deigned to dance on earth than in heavens
Their fairy-tale robes kissing the mud, the water.


Or the strings of a Sitar,
That echoes from the blossomed clouds.

Or if you’re tired like me,
Let’s take a seat beside those
Who with their all life loathe this day,
As their homes get washed away
Drenched to their skin they wait for the sun
God doesn’t live here for them
You can find him in those lanky edifices.
O look at those naked but happy toddlers!
They know not what life can be
Being the debris of a society
Hah, only were they blessed by these tears
God cries from the heavens…