This dreary darkened sky   in which I float benumbed   into my Enola-gay filled with ambitions failed    and when it will collide with the towers of madness   I'll fall off to the ground   hope will flow out from my wounds   some unfit dog shall spell a tear of grief       Far at east, by the silky way    the mirage of a forgotten town rescuse me    in storms religions lost and empty sanctuaries   I let my body being slowly buries along other fools      To the silence we belong,   and the silence in this wilderness throve   the Via Crucis across the Dead Sea    then caught in Samarkand bazaar dream      No, don't search for me at North   where the nonsense of my frienzied notes lead   as now I am the Czar      In sleep I spread my veils   as day is much too harsh to sail   while dream are bright and manifold