I am a well that has dried up –
the thirsty returns with thirst.
I am a pen with a broken nib –
the writer returns without words.
I am a sea with no fishes –
the fishermen cast their nets in vain.
I am a field which refuses to produce –
the hungry farmers pray for rain.
I am a mother without a child –
her knitted sweater gathering mites.
I am a famished child with no blood –
the mosquitoes do not trust their bites.
I am a night with no stars –
the astronomers cannot calculate.
I am a palm with no lines –
the astrologers cannot talk about fate.
I am a nest without eggs –
all the birds have flown away.
I am a sea roaring with storm –
the sailors have lost their way.