Looking through the door

you never know if there is exit o entry way

but just seated for a while

the World walks in front of you

Do you need a flying carpet?

a pretty harem wife?

a good sleep?

or a magical lamp?

Do not ask him, the old man is as lost in Earth as you are

The old man who rides the sunsets

always finds easy friends to finish the beer stock

but at the following morning, thereis always a different window

to look through a different world

where the new

and the old

join under the inmemorial sun

Ok, I have hang over, it is time to eat something fresh

the old man has finally arrived

to the water

the sand

and the loneliness sunsets

He is not at home yet

he just looks at the other men

trying to find out the way back

but there is always another bend

another sea

another hotel

The fortress is still closed

Tobruk, where the deads have peace under palm trees

and the rust never sleeps

Sabratah, echoes of old stones

that want to go to the sea

and play the never endig drama

Heading North among the olive trees

remembering the land of our fathers

Magna Leptis

treasure of golden ages

written on the sacered stones

where work the new slaves

under the same old owners

Behind the columns

lives the mad

But the sweet night

always comes

El Alamein, where the beach is graveyard

for thousands died for no reason

so far away from the green grass of home

The old man is always young enough to make new friends

getting his way on the sand

and riding among the old heroes

of forgotten wars

battled by non name warriors

who feed the oil that feeds the camel

that lives on the deep trap sand

full of bones and madness