Recorded last night at Mamangching.
Me reading A Winter Night by Tomas Tranströmer.
Thirsty city steaming after a long foreign rain,
The warm wet streets throwing its colorful neon lights
Back up into the thick night. Greetings, laughters, cries,
Indistinct weather chats, swears, sirens, horns,
All kneaded into a thick air going in and out of everybody,
Threading the towering black buildings through their bright eyes,
Threading in and out of hotel rooms
along dark and half-lit gullies smelling of urine,
Slow stilettos and boots giving momentary lives to puddles
That live quick colorful lives.
I languish wandering about the city with the languid wind,
My pockets full of heavy coins with foreign heads
Which I have long stopped throwing at the counters.
Amorous breath of breeze
Singarei blossoms fall quietly,
Dewy grass of morn