Akhtar Jawad Pink Poems

The crowd of passionate red lovers!
My eyes on a moderate pink flower,
Neither kissed me nor has it been kissed
But my eyes have an aesthetic shower.
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Here in a garden of flowers you see,
Beneath the shades of a flamboyant tree,
Two pillows in love, and facing each other,
Placed for grandfather and grandmother,
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The booby boy when comes out of the cage,
The sage recollects sweet times of teen age,
The time that never comes back once again!
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When I think of death,
I go and listen to the sermons of a religious scholar.
When I think of life,
I go and listen to the jokes of my grandchildren.
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Watching an affair of the sun and the clouds
the clouds hiding the sun
and the sun behind the clouds.
Showers being chased by the sun
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The world is one on the truth,
all flowers are beautiful,
whatever the color of their petals may be.
I don't choose flowers for their colors,
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Oh! Where are my sweaters and my coat?
And where is the devil my overcoat?
Years ago when I bid farewell to my woolen clothing,
I took out all from the pockets but forgot a thing,
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The messages you sent to me,
I can only imagine I cannot see,
Alas! There is no recycled bin in my heart,
Otherwise I would have restored your art!
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I wonder who is behind the mirror,
is it me?
No, I can't believe.
Look, I have a sword in my right hand,
...