The sand dunes are blowing over me
They colour me in joy
Even when my red eyes deepen
Countless times the moon went around me
I just returned from a journey around the sun
O sandy Sahara
Hot and dry they made you
Never to sympathize with our muzzle
Your trade winds as they graze the greens
I desire your rains
Even its storms which precede them
Like smoke from the fire of a burning goat
Its fragrance when they pass me by
Not their water when they come in number
With their tail between their hind legs
Slowly as they sound their trumpets
I thirst your water oh sky
Much more when you are dark
And gathered on high
My tongue shoots up from its cells
Not its teeth to cover
When it comes closer
Only to wet its skin
With all your wells of water
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