Rip Von Winkle Poem by Harun Al Nasif

I gradually realized centuries later that the species of those whom I once loved or thought worth-loving had become extinct from the face of the earth.Even after being classified on the rare or red list, I remained oblivious, and my slumber did not break As I woke up and came out of the ancient cave rubbing my eyes, I approached a gift shop in the town to buy a Valentine's card, the shopkeeper found the coins in my wallet to be out of date and offered me a name-card of an antique shop only to go back to their works. Unable to locate the shop's address, I had to ask someone for directions. Yet true to habit, I find myself wandering aimlessly, searching to and fro... I forget what I went out to buy... I perceive no loves, no affections are left alive for me in the world...During a certain stage men live on earth only as a shadow, a shell, a slough. No one waits for him except the opening of the grave agape... Yet the lust for love keeps awake somewhere and melting in a manner of sleep flutters aimlessly like a colorful butterfly of fragrance. The petals of surreal flowers still bloom up and aspire to be birds...