The Piper

 Adeeb Kamal Ad-Deen



In the middle of a yellow, blue and orange cloud

I sat and looked at the world’s greenness.

As it carried me,

Crossing from a time to a time

And from an age to another.

The cloud stopped.

A beautiful sound of the pipe was heard

Like a spring in the middle of summer.

The cloud stopped.

I had a look down

So that I might see the piper.

I imagined he was my father.

But he was not.

I imagined he was my son.

He was not.

Maybe it was I.

I was not.

He was nobody at all.

It was a beautiful, astonishing sound

Filling everything with pleasure and gold.


The cloud got tired.

I looked and found my father

Lying on a cloud ahead of me

And my son riding a cloud following me.

The cloud got tired from stopping.

So, it moved quietly to the end.

But our clouds,


Started to lose their delightful colours

And became darker and darker.



( T p )

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