When I tell you, you won’t understand.
Its in the smell of the place, my friend.
Its in the sweltering heat,
In the soaking chill of your sweat.
Its in the bare bare feet,
Its in the cotton colours riot.
Its in the pa’an – ugly red
Its in flowers woven garland
Its in the temples, cool and at peace
Its in the people, who laugh with ease
Its in the dogs that roam the streets
Its in the food and other treats.
Its in the evenings after a blistering day
Its in the breeze with smells of the sea
Its in the hay, in the summer of May
Its in the traffic - live and let be.
When I tell you, you won’t understand.
You need to see, to smell and feel, my friend.
