Decaying Flowers Of Petunia Poem by Muhammad Shanazar

Are you?
You are reading inscription
Of my silence with so much interest,
Say something so that your words
May become title of this poem,
Raise your eyes and see
So that this evening may get its identity,
In front of the window,
Half emerging moon bears some queries,
And my silence cannot respond.

The delicate fingers of the wind,
Fondle the flowers of petunia,
Place upon my table;
They too perhaps do not have answer,
Of tricky questions
Of the melancholic panting moments.
Tomorrow these flowers
Will not be on my table but the wind
Shall come through half opened window
In search of them,
And nattering to the half-moon in front of the window will leave farther away,
Then who knows what may happen.

But today when you are beside me,
Infuse fragrance of you voice
Into these decaying flowers of petunia,
Which I have not cast-off yet
While waiting for your arrival.