Thoughtful Nile

If this dance be the last For I see them throwing spears - Not for its sport This dance, a shrilling one. When we come home for showers Diapers of our babies, drenched, Such aroma; a sweet-sour tale to tell For being ready was the dance for... Only the dead wishes not for this dance But the living accustomed to its essence Such a dance we struggle to get Yet, a dance we fear to leave Nor a dance to tango for!