Windows in windows.. in windows,

they talk to each window,

they whine, they wean,

they fade, they lean..

they are widows,

they are windows.

Cars cars cars.. yet more cars..

Here.. on this very curvy road,

the sky curves not.

The shore of Batroun, under a glass moon.

Beirut is resting,

every part of her is very tired,

and her rest is resting too.

...