These ordinary people proceed on a pilgrimage and they have no proper intention where do they go?
Some they do not have the expenses for the journey and food too.
They believe a grant would provide on the way somehow.
In the desert the passers-by find only skeletons and they see far away shining mirage.
They are like old Camels without the hump and they mime in the sandstorm to the tune of desert eternal ruthless shrill.

nimal dunuhinga

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/grant-for-grass-roots/