After the rain, the path of pitch dried up
A breeze is flowing the world is silent
I am searching the dust in the path
There is no sign there is no gain.
I am asking I am asking
But find one , makes me disappointed,
A sparrow is drying itself up
I saw it I am thinking about it.
The sun is preparing to be gone
The bird is returning home
The cowboy stops the tune of the flute
I am still confused I am searching.