Temporarily we drove through the night
cocooned in its interior, nothing could
touch us here where asphalt and tyres made
ductile, harmonious music. We drove past
many villages half submerged by the night,
yet spoke of peace, work is done, time to
rest and let nature take care, and let dogs too
given the right to bark at the pale moon.
A car overtakes blaring horn and loud music,
Peace is shattered as shards of glass falling off
a towering building shaken in the fatal clutches
of an earthquake. Illusory life, our hold is as
puny as a baby's grip on his mother's thumb or
frail as an old man's grasp on his walking stick.
