Ugliness is My Comfort Zone

I cry every time I encounter something so beautiful
I too don't know why
It could be that I'm used to "ugliness"
That beauty overwhelms my heart

I watched the sun setting down
near a river in Mongolia
and my eyes water 
watching its shine gradually wiped out by lullabies sung by the stars

I listened to an old willow tree, tell its story
at a lonely grass field in Lebanon
of everything it has witnessed 
And my heart broke
just like every soul that bids farewell
under the willow's arms