Life is a garden
               plant your seeds.
Remove those of
                whom are weeds.

Just because I'm continuously searching that doesn't mean I'm forever lost.

Your sun is laughing in my heart...
...خورشید تو در قلب من می خندد
Your eyes laughing with me...
...چشم هایت با من می خندند
A light on your lips, maybe
شاید نوری روی لب هایت باشد
I don't know...
...نمی دانم
The sky doesn't smell of you
آسمان بوی تو را نمی دهد
Wanting my young and happy ******* with you
من سینه های جوان و خوشحالم را با تو می خواستم
The frenzy of my eyes, will make you fall in love?!
آیا شور چشم های من, تو را عاشق خواهند کرد!؟
The innocence of your eyes, will take me to my childhood?!
آیا معصومیت چشم های تو, مرا به کودکی هایم خواهند برد!؟
The only place that I can be a bird
تنها جایی که می توانم پرنده باشم
Learning the flying freely!
! آزاد پرواز کردن را یاد بگیرم
I've brought your hands
من دست های تو را آورده بودم
Your eyes laughing with me
چشم هایت با من می خندند
Feeling the greenness of the trees
درخت های سبز را احساس می کنم
leaves, laughing
برگ ها می خندند
and the wind,
،و باد
whispering woefullest season in my heart
غمگین ترین فصل را در قلب من نجوا می کند
The sun, should be yellow?!
خورشید، باید زرد باشد!؟
The white clouds, should be far away?!
ابرهای سفید، باید دور باشند!؟
The air is young for me...
...هوا برایم تازه است
Your hands have two jasmine flowers
دست هایت دو گل یاس دارد
and I will taste them till the end of my life
و من تا آخرعمرآن ها را خواهم چشید
Loving your eyes ''The God of jasmine flower''
'' چشم هایت را دوست دارم ''خدای گل یاسمن

I have been thinking about how fictional worlds thread with our realities,
how if you read a book,
watch a film,
see a play,
the subject matter and themes will unconsciously make their way into your daydreams,
I had been watching pride and prejudice,
thinking of Pemberley Estate,
the countryside,
how English hills can flood with hanging low mist,
overcast and soft,
mild, almost ethereal,
or how it may tear itself open,
on ripe summer days,
the ground verdant and full,
I see an image of us, by a lake,
perhaps an old-fashioned picnic basket,
cherries, peaches, strawberries, plums,
feeding each-other grapes,
we could dip our feet in the water,
laze and kiss and,
have all in the time in the world somehow.
I would have a book of poetry,
Sappho perhaps, Elizabeth Bishop, Emily Dickinson,
I could show you the ones I think you might like,
feed you a strawberry,
read you wild nights,
our hair and hands all tangled,
our words and thoughts entwined too,
and we forget all about the beautiful countryside, and the fruit, and the poetry,
for moments and moments.

I felt the throb
of genuine
happiness
jolt me
back to life

She has dark brown eyes.

Her beauty is so natural like how a bird flies.

Going to work day by day to make sure my angel smiles and never has to pay.

The wind blowing her hair as I watch it sway.

Kissing my lips and looking me in the eyes.

As she tells me she loves me and she's here to stay.