Violet, creeping jasmines
With green, rising fingers,
Tuning the yellow violin,
Sitting on the blue heaven
...
When I see your sea
And finger the rest of sand,
I feel you in my land
Your salinity
...
Either the poet is vain or the poems awkward
Nobody reads them willingly
May laughing at a poem be sweeter than bitter silence
Enjoying writing and reading by herself,
...
I am writing to you, flowing time,
Cross the night sooner than the sunset
And the noon ahead of dawn
You run before my eyes to see nothing
...
The tablecloth on the ground
Gathered a big family together
Loaves of bread and bowls of broth
In front of the children
...
The World
A rose with thorns
And a teasel with flowers
Build a thorny-rose world