I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Z
　　E
　　　 R
　　　　 O
　　　　　o
　　　　　 o
　　　　　o
　　　　 。
　　　 。
　　　.
　　　.
　　　 .
　　　　.

a girl with golden earrings
black hair
her sister is not laughing
I'll take my mum with me
where the Jasmines go
the girl with golden earrings
in a blue skirt
will die in the middle of her balloons
with no memory of her stories
'' don't play with the water tap
look at you
a wet mouse you are
oh cute naughty babe
how playful you are
how playful you
it's good to learn
look I'm drawing a flower
where's my yellow pen ?
i want to draw a nightingale ''

دختری که گوشواره هایش طلایی بود
رنگ موهایش سیاه
خواهرش نمی خندد
من مادرم را با خود خواهم برد
به جایی که یاسمن ها می میرند
دامنش آبیست
دختری که گوشواره هایش طلایی بود
میان بادبادک هایش خواهد مرد
قصه هایش یادش نبود
با شیر آب بازی نکن ))
نگا تو مثله موش شدی
نازی شیطون بلا
چقد تو بازیگوش شدی
چقد تو بازیگوش شدی
خوبه از من یاد بگیری
ببین دارم گل می کشم
مداد زرد من کجاست
می خوام یه بلبل بکشم
(( می خوام یه بلبل بکشم

Lately, all the days have been turning into Mondays,
A job for the sun and a career for the moon,
A pencil sketched world with only shades of gray,
Stuck in sharp angles with no curves any soon.

Now Night is a Canson paper
Static with no signs of life

No room for poetry
nor the power of imagination

It's only a time for hours of sleep,
Eight to be precise

Behind the curtains
Dreams wait for an invitation

So I'm calling for all the stars to come nurse this disaster,
To bring back nights when staring out the window was enough,
I'm calling for them to patch all the hearts that ruptured,
To free those practical minds out of their handcuffs.