As time wore on-
on the desert's dry, dead, and desolate sand-
under the desert's hot blinding and pestering sun-
I left my mother
and joined the caravan
to help carry myrrh, water pipes, grain and incense sticks
from town to town.
I was young.
I was swift
and I was the lead camel
at the very front of the caravan
just like my father had been
before me.
I had no baby fur anymore,
my hair was glossy and smooth.
There was always a twinkle in my eye
and speedy was my move.
I was getting older.
As time wore on-
on the desert's thirsty, breathless, and copious sand-
under the desert's fiery, glaring, and tantalizing sun-
heavier goods were loaded on me
in the caravan.
I carried salt, carpets, furniture, and gold
for several thousand miles.
I was skillful.
I was strong
and it was me
who got to carry one of the three wise men
such as none of my ancestors have done
before me.
I was not as fast as I was before,
but instead my muscles grew much stronger.
There was still a twinkle in my eye,
and I could go for distances longer.
I was getting older.
As time wore on-
on the desert's dusty, lifeless, abundance of sand-
under the desert's flaming, bright, and destructive sun-
my legs grew tired and my hooves were old
in the caravan.
I carried jewels, water, food, and travelers
from resting spot to resting spot.
I was old.
I was slow
and stumbled
at the very end of the caravan
just like my sister had done
before me.
I was not energetic anymore
and my fur was weather-beaten and very rough.
There was seldom a twinkle in my eye
and I was not longer tough.
I was getting older.
As time wore on-
on the desert's barren, asleep, and infinite sand-
under the desert's sizzling, radiant, and taunting sun-
my master sent me into exile
to wander the desert on my own.
All I carried was a heavy heart
as I stumbled through the wilderness alone.
I was lonesome.
I was glum,
and I was an ancient forgotten camel now
in no more caravan
just like my brother had been
before me.
I had no friends anymore,
my skin was bald and my hair was gray.
There was no more twinkle in my eye,
or so I heard everyone say.
I was getting older.
As time wore on-
on the desert's waterless, unconscious, many grains of sand-
under the desert's blistering, intensive, and tormenting sun-
I fell down,
closed my eyes
and had a vivid dream:
It was about the different loads I carried
for many thousands of miles.
I remembered the wise man
on my back,
and what was so special about that night.
I remembered how I was young,
how I was swift,
how I was strong
and I remembered
how I told my children
everything I knew.
I opened my eyes
and my heart filled with glee.
There was an even brighter twinkle in my eye
as there may ever be!
I knew that
in the years to come,
my friends will all forget me,
but
I have been of use!
I have lived a life!
Just as my mother had done
before me.
My eyes then closed once more,
to be never opened again
on the desert's sandy floor.
on the desert's dry, dead, and desolate sand-
under the desert's hot blinding and pestering sun-
I left my mother
and joined the caravan
to help carry myrrh, water pipes, grain and incense sticks
from town to town.
I was young.
I was swift
and I was the lead camel
at the very front of the caravan
just like my father had been
before me.
I had no baby fur anymore,
my hair was glossy and smooth.
There was always a twinkle in my eye
and speedy was my move.
I was getting older.
As time wore on-
on the desert's thirsty, breathless, and copious sand-
under the desert's fiery, glaring, and tantalizing sun-
heavier goods were loaded on me
in the caravan.
I carried salt, carpets, furniture, and gold
for several thousand miles.
I was skillful.
I was strong
and it was me
who got to carry one of the three wise men
such as none of my ancestors have done
before me.
I was not as fast as I was before,
but instead my muscles grew much stronger.
There was still a twinkle in my eye,
and I could go for distances longer.
I was getting older.
As time wore on-
on the desert's dusty, lifeless, abundance of sand-
under the desert's flaming, bright, and destructive sun-
my legs grew tired and my hooves were old
in the caravan.
I carried jewels, water, food, and travelers
from resting spot to resting spot.
I was old.
I was slow
and stumbled
at the very end of the caravan
just like my sister had done
before me.
I was not energetic anymore
and my fur was weather-beaten and very rough.
There was seldom a twinkle in my eye
and I was not longer tough.
I was getting older.
As time wore on-
on the desert's barren, asleep, and infinite sand-
under the desert's sizzling, radiant, and taunting sun-
my master sent me into exile
to wander the desert on my own.
All I carried was a heavy heart
as I stumbled through the wilderness alone.
I was lonesome.
I was glum,
and I was an ancient forgotten camel now
in no more caravan
just like my brother had been
before me.
I had no friends anymore,
my skin was bald and my hair was gray.
There was no more twinkle in my eye,
or so I heard everyone say.
I was getting older.
As time wore on-
on the desert's waterless, unconscious, many grains of sand-
under the desert's blistering, intensive, and tormenting sun-
I fell down,
closed my eyes
and had a vivid dream:
It was about the different loads I carried
for many thousands of miles.
I remembered the wise man
on my back,
and what was so special about that night.
I remembered how I was young,
how I was swift,
how I was strong
and I remembered
how I told my children
everything I knew.
I opened my eyes
and my heart filled with glee.
There was an even brighter twinkle in my eye
as there may ever be!
I knew that
in the years to come,
my friends will all forget me,
but
I have been of use!
I have lived a life!
Just as my mother had done
before me.
My eyes then closed once more,
to be never opened again
on the desert's sandy floor.