Everything is in place
Your mirror
Your gem stones
The burning oil pot
The henna pot
For the 'Eid'* to come.
An empty chair
Last summer's shirt
Your scent on the pillow
Remnants of our last day's kiss
Everything is there
Even the sun
We saw sinking behind our balcony
Everything is here
But you.
*'EID is the holy day for Muslims."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem