Forfeiture
I was a tiny and she was too,
We have fun and ply,
On a green carpet,
Near the river bank,
There was some trees,
The sun draws a moon upon her face,
And from her tufts hair were brightness,
We say what we want –
And write on a sand,
Without any restrictions,
We don't know an age,
And the time rotated,
She is taken by the days,
Far away from me,
I stayed with illusions,
And there weren't any shrubs –
Near the coast,
Who waken in adorer body –
The warmth of trees spring?
And restores those days?
The river asks me, to for gate what we were,
Can I reach her –
Or personate the pretexts.
Basim AlAoda
2006 April
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nostalgic poem and the desire to continue on. very beautiful. thanks.md