Like a fine wine
Over hundred of years
Your traditional love
And its flavour
Touched my heart deeply.
The old and new
Past and present
It should be love
Other than anything.
But I am a Nomad
And travelled
From place to place.
The wearied old camel
Rests beside me and I take out
My broken-string lute for a song.
Virgin Moon shines like a coin
And the desert wind brings the memory of our old song.
'It should be love other than anything
Because we are in the city that never sleeps! '
A humble dedication to the poetess Magnolia in gratitude!
*Have a heart that never hardens, and temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts.
-Charles Dickens
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem