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when the  rivers green early in the morning of obscure season fountain up to weave the clouds blue, and the roses rouge give the arrayed passengers solemn hello, mild adores from Narcissus and lilacs make wild grass rhythmically flew,
when sun spatter gold ness to heart of people coming through
and  humid on petals remnant from past night rain shrewd  
to  make the robust mountain shine under occasion to give the blinking eyes clue
I will let myself to think upon you.
considering our doings during years like ghost forlorn comes and go
while it is neither spring nor summer day that smooth breeze opening the door to bid the winter’s storm out…out…
memories long, long… breaks out by strong typhoon, so…
I would be persuaded to assess:  my hard-hearted angle, on some occasions, maybe it is possible to forgive you!
Shall we stay for a while in the midnight on the bridge, the river beneath is dried?
Without you disturbing me further, annoying, or injuring my heart.
Shall we?
Shall I ask you don’t say even a word about being cruel or galling of love?
Neither do I  expect the romantic situation with burning stars, or smooth blowing breeze to pamper cheeks inwards…nothing … I expect for nothing.
What I wait for is only staying for a while. Be patient and calm enough to look at my eyes, someone whose crime is only loving you and ask yourself …why?
Why nightmarish tortures appropriate to her?
why?
to whom deserves the best
Ghazal# Ebrahimzade# English# poetry# about love#
Fill in the blanks with those vocabularies never ever found in usual discussion, daily comes and goes, never existed even on imaginary world of movies or books.
Fill in the blanks with noise.
Tumult of hallucination whizzing the sound of ambiguity through the sound of the gait of a man galloping smoothly in the long yellow brick route surrounds with fences never expose the way of redemption.
Fill in the blanks with choice.  
The last track of nightingale, maybe, dwells on the far branches of novel blossom tree of best spring with no worrisome regards countable, uncountable, passives, actives, adjectives or nouns.  
Fill in the blanks with skylarks of no boast.  
It is causative by its own, Imagery flying over the untrodden lands inspires the eyes overview the long hair singers hadn’t been observed before. Access is denied!  
Fill in the blanks with liberty of boost.
Aurora …aurora…. Some body calls. Pretending to be wise whole life, how nonsense it was. Being lunatic is secret of joy.
Fill in the blanks with wandering ghosts!
Ghazal# Ebrahimzade# English grammar#
The whole hills of high mountain are covered with pure whiteness, very shining gazing the eyes…
It is ****.
The pearl-like dandelions, I mean, cunning coming, cunning coming …dance and sing with the wave of whizzing band.
It is ****.
the land so far, remote and inaccessible, mountains are far elegantly standing upright,
I can't see exactly
where
pure whiteness carpets softly the zest…full of ****.
I was there if I exactly remember…
I was sinking in depth…
Walking…
Watching…
Running…
1000 miles around me had been surrounded with
****.
Now I’m here, in the land so far, remote and forlorn,
but I know on the zest…
there is  ****!
**** means snow in Farsi language
I want to wait, come and join me here until it becomes so
LATE
like a last moon of light in cloudy weather never burning bright
and disappears: never comes to its premier shield.  
Don’t be wandering
Wondering
Or in
Misbehaved shape. I want to be
LATE
till ...an event... destroys all fences
play the role of barriers between us.
Then
love bursts in spring reaction of a sudden blossom
and tears, non-stop
flowing on the land of juvenile since it is
LATE.  
we dance
On the spring rush of glancing love,
Gazing permanently
under the shadow of your silvery eyes,
where
No one has remained except you and us!
.
.
  To be a last singer, to be a last dancer…
in the scene of eternal love
wait...wait... to be
LATE!
Ghazal# Ebrahimzade#
All birds of my heart were high in sudden curved of the azure sky where Enthusiasm and happiness flourishing directly in the magnificent immigration through
dance of wind and wine.  
Swirling
and
Swirling
From north to south.  
showing amazing absolutely, by exposing colorful long tails
from earth to clouds where human’s eyes rarely can magnify
How far? …
Don’t remember exactly
It was fire, water or turbidity dust of shapeless tornado in
unexpected curved of the grey road
that
All birds of my heart …all birds of one type
suddenly lost.
I...
Reluctant, morbid…feeling false
I…
in hours extend in duration of long time burn the  expectations
as outcome,
waiting for
magnificent immigration may return them to their nest, on top of my heart.    
maybe they die, maybe go far…
nurturing and nourishing them a lot,
how is it possible to stay without birds of height?
while
“Maybes” …has never grown any flower in any dust.
while
   while...
the next immigration is not so far
… birdies…
Shall I see you again in the realm of my emotional yard?
Ghazale#Ebrahimzade#
Muharram 2017 #(Ashoura Night)#
The black voodoo of his mind  
creates the magic song,
long…
long…
in a magnificent talk.
This is the main reason for his
Rise.
And lies…
In the first glance
Rarely will found,
On his lovely eyes!
Oh…
Make us fall in love,
The black voodoo in our hearts!
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