Thursday, March 20, 2014

We came it and the sun was about to fold.

We came it and the sun was about to fold.
A village was at the end of a mountainy road
Our time was hard and the water was rare.
Our mules went on groaning under a heavy load. 
Nothing we had to shelter in that gloomy desert.
A windy weather struck against our naked chests.
A wintery day was the coldest day of the year.
Seven guns stuffed with powder ready to shoot.
Drowse overcame upon us until we hardly move.
 Muffled our heads, we began to nap.
Deserted place never has been trodden yet.
Morn shed us a light from a distant gap. 
Once we turned left, a rain flooded the land.
Road turned slippery and our mules stubborn.
One of the men shouted as a wolf!
We are hungry, what do we have to eat?
Dunes of salt appeared as stacks
 and the way turned hard.
No friend could ask or whatever to do
But suddenly we saw a shadowy lamp
It is a village of Gipsy stretched there
We didn’t know how to call or how to speak
But we kept silent until their chief came
He said, "Hallo" and you can take a rest
Their maidens are beautiful wearing the gold
One of them has fleshy thighs as a wild deer
Hurrying emotively as if she was a slumbery soul
A courteous girl does of a highbred.
A romantic figure never can be seen.
Soul would be pleasant to hear her tune.
Three days and we moved leaving behind our groan.