The dog runs in vain
His shepherd is a wolf
The chicken sells its chickens
I fasten my belt
I do not need Sohrab's imaginary boat
A horrible look in silence
Spring weather change
He didn't laugh, but a hole fell in his lips
I'm scared
The sound of breaths rising from the grave
Scattering of thoughts
Above the cloud of desires
Burning flames coming from the inside
It dries up all the strings of hope
Here
Right now
The table clothes are empty of bread
Tears of embarrassment on the dry width of the face
He look the child's hands to the wheat field.
The book of Hello Morning page 46
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem