The Heart Poem by Uktamoy Khaldorova

Flirting and enchanting
By thousand ways
She came painting her eyes black.
It is a charming night.
The wind is waving like a drunkard
Embracing the savories from harassment.
Going to holidays
Like evening flowers,
They don’t keep from laughing
Being heard near or far
A lump in its throat
A little bird has cried out.
The eyes of the earth
Gets used to the violet joy.
The panic comes, but not pity,
To see the little bird,
Which cried beautifully
Which was caught in the net.