source In my memories, Those days still remain Soaked in the intoxicating fragrance of fresh roses Like bloodshot petals, Those days are alive In my remaining memories, In the deepening darkness of the

source Since this morning, the foggy time has stood still I don't know why, recalling the past moment like the pages of a diary turning, some incomplete lines, some unfulfilled dreams The banyan tree peeking

source The lines on the foreheads have deepened Many salty lakes have emerged on the black surface The entire expanse of the sky has shrunk around us The world has become a mere two feet A mud house, small

source I kept breathing an inspiration When you stayed apart from the crowd A face that is recognized as you She did not taste the option How many wishes you want Your decisions had to be free The one

source Now, when so much remains, gradually, I think how detached the journey alone is No responsibilities, No hopes No puzzle of joys, No end of sorrows Respect for an unnamed liberation With the sound

source In many moments, I felt that sorrow and joy cannot be repeated that they sink deep into the soul and drop by drop the blood falls like a thorn piercing the heart of Keats's nightingale and the pain

source You smile, Me amore because there was the only solace before you, When all the trails were lost in a forest And emotions froze like ice on the paths Smile so that its warmth, melts the cold A glow

source Now let me argue When you mention the bright red rose and the intoxicating weather under its influence surely, love has never been synonymous with, any particular season for me It's like when rivers,

source The cold winds sting deeply now What remains in your tone? What truth did you ignore? What truth did you kindle a flame of indifference? What lie, That sways in the direction of your heartbeat?

source Pain woven into the fabric of words The empathy, faith, love, revolution, change... Alas! As if sharp teeth have grown in our intestines, which gnaw at the walls and slowly suck out our entire marrow

source You remain anxious seeing the strength of the hardwork and passion of us toilers Your face turns pale When, with our infants tied to our backs, Carrying the load of bricks, Songs rise from our dry

source Enough of the rituals of the world, The talks of sorrows and griefs If possible, say something different from this today... These mornings and evenings This land and these trees Wrapped in mist

source The Silences are worn Like that beautiful gem shining on the finger Whose other end is very sharp Keeps pricking night and day Whereas the silences keep smiling Innocently The silences are decorated

source Some distances do not end Despite running with great enthusiasm, For a very long time Or taking slow steps forward The distances playing hide and seek from a distance And then one early morning

source Eyelids of the night lying on the pillow Still drowsy Some hard edges sticky due to the salty water Today is the scary night like the poison vine of the dark wing, isn't it? Silence all around Some

source The rising sun Like an autocratic ruler “I am like this” Burning red with pride Formulates battle strategies everyday To live his life on his own terms Then spreads fearless quarrels Intoxicated

source You are free To make fun of us To digest us whole with just a glance To send vulgar messages from a distance Forgetting the whiteness in your hair To say that “The heart is a child” And if we don’t

source Tell me Why do you keep coming back, memories! Like a child who comes home at dusk Embracing the evening You kiss my forehead with affection You know The time stretched and extended Like elastic

source Red clouds above, And a yellow sheet below, What does the sun setting on the distant horizon say slowly Let's open the layers of the mind Those whose life is like a mountain, But there are smiles

source Indeed, this is the right age for me to fall in love Where a pure red rose is blooming in my dreams At this age true prayers come out of the heart Which the society hesitates to accept At this age