(Based on an anonymous transcript)
As I pass through this mystic land
all I see is but the golden sand.
Wind, the master of desert;
Plays the song
The dunes are but neigh
to dance along.
The wind blows
moving the grains to and fro;
giving them the life they much desire,
a reason to exist, compete, feel and persprire.
Sometimes a mighty storm
uproots the very foundation of the dune.
Sometimes a gentle breeze
shapes the features and puts it back to tune.
The dunes change form continuously
yet their essence survives
One wind leads them to perdition
and another revives.
Eons have passed
Yet the winds continue their game
The dunes eagerly await
for their elixir to come and proclaim.