The hot sun bakes the dry sand. The old man smokes, squatting, That lethargic, silent, serious, meaningless moment.
The sky puts on its grey suit and orange scarf. A frog jumps into the placid pond That sullen, somber, moody, sad moment.
The night casts its shadow, calling the day a liar. And the meaning of life is once again hidden By the passing, flowing, elusive, brutal moment. ***