We still live on the brink of nothingness, between the north and south of the seasons We still sleep on stone pillows, like our fathers We still follow the same clouds, resting in the shadows of thorn trees We still drink down our tea while swallowing fire and we walk barefoot not to frighten the silence And in the distance at the edge of the mirage we still watch, every evening the sun fall into the sea And the same woman greets us while she posts lookout for the dusk in the middle of the map She greets us, then is lost in the eyes of a child smiling from the lap of eternity And we still wait for a new dawn We still wait to begin again by Mohammed Ebnu