The little things a loved one did
That irritated when they were near
Would no longer cause frustration
If today they were here

Some small thing they used to do
Some word they used to say
No longer would cause us anger
Now that they are gone away

Some small annoying habit
That would cause us to dispair
We now would gladly endure
If only they were here

So many unimportant habits that troubled us
That didn’t really mean that much
O how gladly we would take them back
To once more feel their touch

RLB

DRIPPED
out the
spout
of a lonely
faucet,
onto a warm
puddle of friends

Art is the music of colours which dazzle so vividly before our eyes that we take it as even more real than life itself--
being intoxicated by its beauty, we want to gladly die unto it as this dying is a gift unto us and we ,being part of it, are made immortal.

Faraway from home

I'm never alienated

it stays in my heart

Rest, oh rest so sublime

as night drifts into the unknown

forgotten is weary time

this, the sojourn alone--



light, oh light so calm

all darkness on swift wings has flown

ah, sleep so welcome--  the sweetest balm

what the living have never ever  known

I was a bird
پرنده ای بودم
In the sky
From your eyes...
...در آسمانی از چَشمانِ تو
When you didn't see me flying
در آن هنگام
که پروازم را حس نمی کردی

Why are your eyes so beautiful?!
چرا چَشمانِ تو آنقدر زیباست!؟
That I released the lock of hair
To your wide blue sky...
که من موهایم را
...در آسمانِ پهنِ آبیِ تو رها کردم