"My eyes" 

Sand Art by Ilana Yahav 

Yehuda Poliker in Caesarea

Don't be mad, my eyes, 

I got up from you to leave, 

another land, 

a town you're not in, 

there I'll roam around without a house. 

Don't wait years beyond a count,

a time will come when I'll return on the wing of a bird 

a day will come 

between this and that 

the end of my wandering will come along with it. 

Don't wait my eyes,

the fire burns on the roads,

the taste of your lips,

the warmth of your body on my body,

nothing will be lost from me. 

Don't wait years beyond a count,

a time will come when I'll return 

on the wing of a bird 

a day will come between this and that 

the end of my wandering will come along with it. 

Don't wait my eyes,

the fire burns on the roads,

the taste of your lips,

the warmth of your body on my body,

nothing will be lost from me.

SandFantasy