The social history of the Sahara
Is six thousand years of sand

The pyramids sell the newspapers
Of this sand, that sand, sand here, sand there

The Daily Sand

The well looks up like a dry frog
At the sky of yesterday, today, tomorrow

The camel forgets if it has lived or died
Is it happy, is it feeling sorrow?

And time bears down like a red hot anvil of cloud
Not aware of the nights or the days passing