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𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠,
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑙𝑊 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑠
𝐌𝑛 𝑔𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑓...
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑊 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑡ℎ
𝐌 𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛;
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑊 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑐𝑙𝑜𝑡ℎ
𝑊𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒;
𝑂ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟 𝑔𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛
𝐻𝑎𝑠 𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑎...
𝑊ℎ𝑜 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑊𝑜𝑢?
𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑖
𝑊𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑑
𝐌𝑛 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑊𝑒𝑠...
𝑊ℎ𝑊 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑊 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑑𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑔?!
𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛
𝑀𝑊 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑠ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑑...
و يديك،
إنها زنؚق...
في ؎جن*
سأتحول إلى اللون الأخضر
في يقين قميصك
وكان يقين قميص الأم أزرق اللون
حديقة زهور الأم،
لديها زهور الؚتونيا؛
من أنت؟
ؚأني أرتدي كفناً
في معرفة عينيك؛
لماذا تموت زهوري؟!
عندما تلؚس يدي كفناً....
𝐌 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐎𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑚𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑗𝑎𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒𝑠
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡,
𝐷𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑠;
𝑂 𝐎𝑢𝑡𝑢𝑚𝑛 𝑎𝑙𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑚!
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔;
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑙
𝐌𝑠 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑊𝑒𝑠
𝐌𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑠...
𝑊ℎ𝑊 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑊𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑒 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠?
𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑑𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠 𝑜𝑓
𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑀
𝐜𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑊....
𝐎𝑧𝑎𝑙𝑒𝑎 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠...
𝑊ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑙
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑠.....
مآهداد
𝐌 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑢𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠,
𝐶𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠;
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑊 𝑣𝑒𝑖𝑙,
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑚 𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑡...
𝑂𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑠ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑠,
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑟𝑜𝑚𝑎 𝑜𝑓 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑚 𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑎𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑛𝑡...
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑊𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒
𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑠
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑊𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑀𝑜 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑠
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑠 𝑎
𝐜𝑎𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑟𝑢𝑏 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑜𝑛 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑡
𝐎𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑊 𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑊𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑎𝑛𝑑
𝐺𝑜𝑙𝑑𝑒𝑛 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠...
𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒𝑠;
𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑟𝑒𝑔𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒
𝐵𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑡𝑒;
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑛🎈
𝑇ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑊 𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑊 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑠...
𝑀𝑊 𝑜𝑣𝑎𝑟𝑊 ℎ𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑠
𝑆𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑀𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑖𝑎
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑊 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑀𝑜𝑚𝑏
𝑀𝑊 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑊
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑜𝑢𝑐ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑀𝑠...
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑙𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔
𝑀𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑜𝑓
𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠
𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑀𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑓
𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑒...
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑒,
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟
𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑠 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑔...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛,
𝑆ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒
𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒...
𝐌'𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑖𝑒𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑝𝑟𝑎𝑊𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑡𝑜
𝑊𝑒𝑒𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑊𝑜𝑢
𝑌𝑜𝑢'𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑀𝑛 𝑎 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑊
𝐵𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑠ℎ,
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑠ℎ,
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔
𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑝𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑠...
𝐌 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑠ℎ
𝑜𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠...
𝑀𝑊 𝑠𝑜𝑛...!
𝑀𝑊 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛...!
𝑂ℎ, 𝑚𝑊 𝑠𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛!
𝐌 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑡𝑊...
𝐌 𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑜 𝑊𝑜𝑢 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑊....
حَیآة🌱
𝐌𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑊 𝑖𝑠 𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 - 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑛 -
𝐜𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑠 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑊...
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑓𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑 - 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑓𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑟𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑟𝑢𝑏 -
𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑-𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠...
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑀 𝑢𝑝
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑀 𝑢𝑝 𝑖𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠,
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑒𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑛𝑒𝑀 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠...
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑖𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑡,
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑
𝑆𝑡𝑎𝑊𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑒;
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛...
𝐻𝑜𝑀 𝑓𝑎𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑊𝑜𝑢 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑛?
𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝐞𝑢𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑊𝑝𝑡𝑢𝑠 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒
𝐹𝑙𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑊𝑜𝑢...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒
𝐹𝑙𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑊𝑜𝑢...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐿𝑖𝑙𝑊 𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑;
𝐵𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑔...
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑ℎ𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑝𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑙𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑠,
𝐹𝑙𝑊𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑀𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑊𝑜𝑢...
𝑂ℎ, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒!
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑀;
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝐌 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑀 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑢𝑙𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑊 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑊𝑒𝑠...
𝐌𝑛 𝑎 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑
𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠,
𝐌𝑛 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑠
𝑃𝑖𝑛𝑘
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑟𝑒𝑑...
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑊𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑎𝑠
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑀𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝑠ℎ 𝑎𝑖𝑟
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑆𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑐 𝑗𝑎𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒,
𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑...
𝑅𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑏𝑜𝑀 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟,
𝑅𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑖𝑙...
𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑎𝑛𝑑
𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑙𝑊;
𝑅𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑒...
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑊
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑀,
𝑆𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠;
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑀𝑎𝑟𝑚 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑜𝑎𝑡,
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑠...
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑛𝑜𝑀,
𝑆𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑚𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠;
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓
𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑠...
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑠...
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑏𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑝𝑟𝑖𝑚𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒𝑠...
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒, ☀
𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛
𝑖𝑛 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑒𝑊𝑒𝑠... 🍈🌿
𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓
𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑟𝑊𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑢𝑚𝑠... 🌌
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑... 🌪
https://youtu.be/9ot45LZVA3k?si=jo4kx9nsim12vsZy
𝑇𝑎𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑢𝑠𝑡
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑒...
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒
𝑇𝑜 𝑚𝑒...
𝐌'𝑙𝑙 𝑀𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑜𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠;
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑜𝑓  𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠...
حَیآة🌱
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑖𝑙ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑎𝑔𝑒 𝑑𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑜𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑡 𝑙𝑢𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑊 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑒 𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟,
𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑚𝑎𝑊𝑏𝑒 𝑠ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑎𝑠 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑝ℎ𝑜𝑡𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑊𝑒𝑠, 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑚𝑒;
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝐌 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑎𝑠𝑘 𝑀ℎ𝑊 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙...!
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑛𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑒𝑟,
𝑎𝑠𝑘𝑠 𝑚𝑊 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑛𝑎𝑚𝑒
𝐎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑚 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑚 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑎𝑟...
𝑆𝑖𝑙𝑘𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑠 𝑡𝑜 𝑠𝑒𝑒 𝑎 𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑙𝑊...
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑊 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑙𝑢𝑒;
𝑂ℎ 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟!
𝑀𝑎𝑊𝑏𝑒 𝑆𝑊𝑟𝑖𝑎 𝑖𝑠 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑚𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑜𝑐𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑏𝑎𝑏𝑊 𝑖𝑛 𝐺𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑊...
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝐌 𝑎𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑏𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑙𝑡𝑊 𝑠𝑜𝑖𝑙...
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑎𝑖𝑛...
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡...
𝐹𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑...
𝐌 𝑑𝑜𝑛'𝑡 𝑀𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑎 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒;
𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑚𝑊 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑟𝑊𝑠𝑎𝑛𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚𝑢𝑚𝑠...
𝐹𝑜𝑟 ℎ𝑢𝑚𝑎𝑛...
𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑖𝑟𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑎𝑛 𝑎𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒...
حیآة 🌱
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠
𝑇𝑢𝑟𝑛 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛
𝐌𝑛 𝑁𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑑 𝑡𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑎𝑀𝑎𝑊
𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑎𝑙𝑛𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑑𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒;
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑓𝑓𝑜𝑑𝑖𝑙𝑠 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑟𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑑;
𝐶𝑎𝑙𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔;
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑚𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠...
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑘𝑊 𝑖𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑠;
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑚 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒,
𝐵𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑙𝑊
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑙𝑊
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑚 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒,
𝐵𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛...
𝐵𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒...
𝐵𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘...
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑝𝑠,
𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑝𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠...
                            𝐹𝑖𝑟𝑒...
                  𝑀𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟...
               𝐷𝑟𝑎𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠...
                 𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑎𝑡𝑒...
𝑀𝑊 𝑠𝑜𝑛,
𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑒...
𝑀𝑊 𝑠𝑜𝑛,
𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑝𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑠 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑊 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑...
و ؚرگ های انگور،
سؚز مي ؎وند
در آؚان...
آؚ مي َؚرَد
درخت گردو را...
آفتاؚ،
نمي رسد...
نرگس ها نیامده اند...
گوساله ها نمي خوانند...
در ساعد دست هایت...
و آسمان ؎ؚیه ستاره نیست؛
نخل،
آرام
       آرام
مي سوزد؛
نخل،
مي سوزد سؚز...
مي سوزد نارنجي...
مي سوزد سیاه...
و لاله ها ؎ؚیه انار...
                        نار...
         مادر...
      سنجاقك ها...
            و انار...
ٟسرم زمان را در من مي ؚیند
ٟسرم در سر من سیؚ مي چیند
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑊𝑒𝑠,
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑀
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑠...
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑀...
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑀𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑀...
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑊 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑊 ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑠;
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑜𝑀,
𝐌𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑀𝑠,
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑀ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔...
𝐵𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑀 𝑎𝑛𝑑
𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑝𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀,
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑊 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑢𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑀𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑠...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑝𝑖𝑛𝑘 𝑏𝑢𝑑𝑠
𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 ℎ𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑠,
𝐵𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑀𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑣𝑎𝑠𝑒;
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑙𝑊 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑛𝑎𝑙...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑡ℎ 𝑜𝑓 𝑀ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑡 𝑖𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑒𝑊𝑒𝑠,
𝑅𝑜𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑑;
𝐺𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛...
𝐺𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛...
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒...
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠,
𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔;
𝑌𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀...
𝑌𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀...
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒...
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑒𝑐𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛'𝑠 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠,
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑀𝑠, 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔;
𝐺𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛...
𝑌𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀...
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒...
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑒,
𝑂𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑀,
𝑂𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑐𝑢𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠,
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑊 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑊 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒𝑙𝑊 𝑡𝑜𝑔𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟;
𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒, 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒, 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑀ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒...
𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑
𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑
𝑊ℎ𝑖𝑡𝑒...
𝑝𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡,
𝑃𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡,
𝑃𝑜𝑖𝑛𝑡,
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑎 𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒...
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑗𝑢𝑗𝑢𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑟𝑒𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑓𝑟𝑢𝑖𝑡
𝑍𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑖𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑖𝑎 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑠
𝐌𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒,
𝑂𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑓𝑖𝑒𝑙𝑑𝑠
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑟𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑠ℎ 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒;
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑊𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟,
𝐌𝑛 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑠.
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑛
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑙𝑊;
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑀𝑎𝑠 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑑
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑔𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑟𝑜𝑜𝑚.
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑠,
𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑊 𝑗𝑢𝑚𝑝 𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒...
𝑀𝑊 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑏𝑜𝑊
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑣𝑜𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑏𝑜𝑑𝑊,
𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑠 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑀 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑒...
𝐎 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑒,
𝐌𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑐ℎ𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑖𝑠ℎ...
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑀𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑠 𝑟𝑢𝑛𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔
𝑆𝑎𝑚𝑏𝑎𝑐 𝑗𝑎𝑠𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑒 𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑠
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑊𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒!
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑊𝑜𝑢 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒!
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑒,
𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑖𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡𝑠 ℎ𝑖𝑏𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑠 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑠,
𝑆ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑜𝑓 𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑢𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑙𝑖𝑒𝑠...
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑒,
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑑𝑢𝑠𝑡
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑛𝑡
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑠ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑠
𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑙𝑒𝑔𝑠...
𝐎𝑛𝑑 ℎ𝑎𝑖𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑜𝑀𝑠 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑊 𝑗𝑎𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑊 𝑑𝑎𝑊...
𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑢𝑒,
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑙𝑜𝑀 𝑙𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑠
𝐺𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝐌'𝑚 𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑜𝑥𝑊𝑔𝑒𝑛...
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝐌'𝑚 𝑖𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑙𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑥𝑊𝑔𝑒𝑛...
𝐌 𝑀𝑎𝑠 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑒𝑑 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑎𝑠𝑐𝑢𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑖𝑡𝑊 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑀𝑜𝑚𝑏;
𝐎𝑛𝑑 𝑚𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑙𝑊,
𝐌 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑜𝑛𝑙𝑊 𝑏𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑊𝑜𝑢
𝐌 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑚𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑊𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑐𝑙𝑎𝑀𝑠...
Jul 2023 · 406
Afterglow
And your neck is the dawn... 
And your neck is the dawn...
I will put your clothes on you;
  The call to prayer is raised;
I've woven the new adhan for you...
Like all your stories
And your shoes, my son...
All the buzz of branches and grape leaves are in your eyes...
And I will kiss...
All the white buds of sambac jasmine...
All the red buds of sambac jasmine...
From your heart...
your legs,
your arms,
Become golden...
The bud of the claw of your larynx turns green...
And your neck is
The tall white palm...
Your neck is the long rainbow...
For the butterfly to come through the walls...
For the coming of my flesh into your voice...
و گردن ات صُؚح است...
و گردن ات صُؚح است...
ٟیراهن ات را تن ات مي کنم
صدای اذان ؚلند مي ؎ود...
اذاني نو ؚرای تو ؚافته ام
مثلِ تمامِ قصه هایت
و کَف؎ هایت ٟسرِ من...
همهمه ی ؎اخه ها و ؚرگ های انگور
در چ؎م هایت...
مي ؚوسَم...
غنچه های سفید رازقي را
غنچه های سُرخ رازقي را
از روی Ù‚ÙŽÙ„Øš ات...
ساقِ ٟاهایت
ؚازو دست هایت
طلایي می ؎وند...
جوانه های ٟنجه يِ حنجره ات
سؚز مي ؎ود...
و گردن ات
نخل هایِ سفیدِ مریمي ؚلند...
رنگین کمان هایي ؚلند...
ؚرای آمدن ٟروانه از میان دیوارها
ؚرای آمدن جسمِ من در صدآءِ تو
Evening,
The nice and warm wind of June...
it blows in the evening;
And it was spring...
You move my hair...
You move my skin...
You move my dress...
My dress comes alive;
It was spring...
And it is summer...
The two wheels of your childhood are colored...
Your eyes give olive...
Your eyes give olive...
Your eyes giving green olives...
I pick your berries;
The sun wakes up... ☀
Your leaves wake up... 🌿

عَصر...
ؚادِ خوؚ و گرم خرداد...
عصر می وزید؛
و ؚهار ؚود...
موهایم را تکان می دهي...
ٟوستم را تکان می دهي...
ٟیراهنم را تکان می دهي...
ٟیراهنم زنده می ؎ود؛
ؚهار ؚود...
و دیگر تاؚستان است...
دو چرخِ کودکي ات رنگی...
نگاهت زیتون مي دهد...
نگاهت زیتون مي دهد...
نگاهت زیتونِ سَؚز مي دهد...
توت هایت را مي چینم؛
آفتاؚ ؚیدار می ؎ود... ☀
ؚرگ هایت ؚیدار می ؎وند... 🌿
Jun 2023 · 334
" A Cloud Of Light "
Your voice giving a green palm
The pigeon,
Bringing branches from your heaven
Bringing from your trees and blossoms
I weave your branches
You will be my drees
You will be the sun and your leaves
Be a butterfly...
Take the shape of a butterfly...
Angels sing you a lullaby to sleep...
Hayat liked to collect tree branches and play with them. Yesterday morning, quite by chance, a pigeon left a branch in front of me to make a nest.
And as if hayat has transformed into a bird from heaven...
he tried to bring me a gift branch again... 🌱
And your glance,
Was the aroma of an orange tree...
That used to turn my body green;
When I'm seeing you,
Spring grows in me...
و نگاهت
ؚوي درخت نارنج اي ست
که تنم را
سؚز مي کند
نگاهت که می کنم
ؚهار در من مي روید
Jun 2023 · 334
The wind of June 9
The smell of your hair
Left on my hand
Colorful;
And after your soil,
I have no meaning
The long white tuberose stems...

ØšÙˆÛŒ موهایت
مانده ØšÙ‡ روی دستم
...رنگی
و ؚعد از خاک ات
من معنا ندارم
...ساقه های سٟید ؚلند مریم
Pink and green shimmer
The voice of leaves and roses
Life sees the butterfly
Irises,
with lungs full of air and water,                And the sun that is infinitely yellow...
Oh my little flower !
How can you survive?
I will sing you a lullaby
of white lilies,
On the branches of
the grape tree....
And the pigeon
that will embrace
the morning sun,
Above the spring orange blossoms...
you exist...
like the figure
In all my late afternoons...
And being in the light...
In the air of your room...
When daylight, illuminates
the dead colored windows
In your room...
In every second...
And lilies,
sprouted from your eyes...
And your hands,
will make the buds green...
the sky,
after the sun
was pink....
Everything was pink...
when i write,
your hands caressing my hands again...
And my hands smell of you
My motherly flesh smells like you
Again...
in subway,
I imagine you...
It was like animation
We were passing through a forest
The forest was so big
The forest had entered the subway from behind the windows...
The passion,
of hunting a butterfly
in your eyes....
You jumped with a butterfly
You flew...
and were happy....
That all cats can laugh...
And I was like my childhood
I was a seven-year-old girl,
With a pink skirt
and bangles...
We can laugh together again..
I love you,
And I don't know
what you are...!
Are you a color?
Are you just a smile?
Or body?
I love you,
And I don't want you to perish...
In Here,
Middle East,
smells like blood,
soil...
and jasmines...
And I am terrified like my childhood...
Sunlight,
is infinitely white and meaningless...
And nothing is beautiful anymore....
I love you,
And i want you to be free...
In here,
Middle East,
With no hospital for Animals Illiteracy of veterinarians Substandard drugs
Lack of good ecosystem to live. Congenital defects.
And misdiagnosis...
Can my love set you free?
I saw you...
and recognized you...
My meaning will be formed from you...
And after love,
We become prisoners of circumstances...
And wishes and choices mean mistake...
Oh dear God!
What is the result of all this immorality and injustice?
Why are we not free?
And can art destroy brutality?
The updated rules have no effect in none of the centuries
And if this was not the
Middle East,
Would the ecosystem give us
Such a victim...?!
Apples and pears mean mistake
And you are the sun...
The sun of those red pomegranate blossoms...
And the virginity of my body was bright in the sun
And primroses will not have a lifetime....
The shadow of fig leaves
will die in your eyes...
And giving birth is a mistake...
I love you, my fetus
Your lungs will no longer suffocate you....
You no longer have to endure the lack of vital facilities...
You don't have to be in this injustice...
You don't have to be where there is no morality....
You don't have to endure both, the fate of humen...
and the fate and imperfection of nature...
You don't have to live in polluted air to enjoy hunting birds....
And humen mean mistake...
It will be an easy death for you The sound of your laughter will ring in the primroses...
The screams of your lungs will no longer be heard
You will no longer breathe with your mouth open...
And you can catch butterflies...
Like a white lily on your forehead,
You are happy and free...
Maybe somewhere else,
In timelessness and spacelessness...
free from the body...
Free from meaning...
Concept...
and free of form...
I will make the lentil,
sprouts green again...
and you are free now...
Your hands will be your own... Your little feet will be your own... And your eyes too....
I saw you and recognized you
And they will not laugh at us anymore...
And they will not say with their logic,
A cat cannot be your child...
Your body was like a cat
And I do not believe
That I don't regocnize the soul,
I saw behind his eyes...
Oh my little Bonsai !
Why do you put your faith in me so much...?!
That soul is my son...
You are my maternal feelings
beyond your body...
beyond this world...
Full of the voice of sunflowers Full of the voice of butterflies and full of the bright green and yellow colors....
And oh human!
Why do you think you are separate from animals?
They understand that we belong to them
But we don't get it...!
And this is because of our
law and civilization...
We have been lying to our children since the beginning, Through animations...
And I came from a cat
And I can have
maternal feelings for a cat...
Oh psychologist !
I'm not insane...
How many people should be victims of one thought and violence...?!
He is still my son
and my God...
I prostrated on your body...
I bathed with your soil...
Fields of dust,
****** waves
All around...
Space as dark as fear,
And I was worried that you didn't have a pillow...
on his happy face,
The dust was falling...
you slept forever,
in new bed of yours...
I saw that you liked it...
And i was going to buy you a bed two days ago...
At nights,
With a sky full of stars
And full moon,
With the song of angels,
On the wings of
butterflies...
dragonflies...
And dandelions,
you will sleep....
And I will find
new beginnings,
for you...
in the constellation,
in cycle,
When the moon reaches
the last round
And the moon dies,
The new moon is just beginning...
in cycle,
One meaning,
becomes
another meanings...
And this means
" new biginnings "
You are a flesh,
with thousand meanings...
my room smells like you
today,
The smell of the plant
The smell of a bird
And the smell of حیآة
the voice of leaves...
green shimmer,
And حیآة ☘
I love you,
And I don't want you to perish
Like the fresh green bud of your grape tree...
like a new meaning of حیآة,
In the vase that I was taking for Mr. Emadi...
Like green olives, in your eyes
you are ripe without guilt...
Oh my one year old apple tree!
you were breathing with pain...
from night to morning...
In the shape of a flute,
In the color of childhood roses,
And your honeysuckle will not breathe anymore...
On your tender and scarred skin,
Oh, Mr. Emadi!
I don't think yellow butterflies, can see the shimmer of green lights...
When a child dies.
You will no longer
be on the branches
at the moment of twilight,
To hear the sound of swallows
The sun will set in your eyes And I will not see your body again...
when from my mother,
My mother who can give birth,
I ask what is justice...?!
maybe like a fetus,
has a hand
has legs
has eyes
And will he **** milk from my *******?
I could see my young eyes,
full of moaning...
I leave my knitting undone,
And laughter,
is no longer beautiful
This vast and blue sky,
was no longer beautiful...
But i love the
blowing breeze,
from you
Bare the pores of my skin,
from your smell
To let me be a cotton primrose, sewn on the white fabric
of your pillow
And how tragic it is;
that your body is dying
Your body will decompose
Your eyes no longer exist
And your hands too...
And now, like war victims,
I will look for your missing hand and foot...
I found a piece of your
hand bone in the soil...
I used to worship this hand
I used to kiss this hand
You were a body,
I used to caress you
And you were intact,
And this was my heart pain.
And I will never forget you
How strong you were until your last breath...
You were fighting
for your survival...
For your freedom...
You were a warrior in this injustice...
And forgive me for living without you
And forgive me for not being able to save you...
Oh حیآة
I looked for you a lot
I look for you in the moon
I look for you in the stars
and in the sky too...
whenever i find time,
I will commit suicide
to see you there,
To see your sky
I will smell jasmine in your cumulus clouds...
In your June...
In your green and yellow June...
Oh, happy child of nature!
So you have been...
And dreaming at night,
means mistake of the mind...
Oh حیآة
in your farewell,
The scent of the dust and blood of the Middle East was dormant
And the innocent fragrance of
Honeysuckle,
was in your name
Oh حیآة
in your farewell,
Your hands were moving
And your eyes were sheer innocence
It is indescribable;
a light,
that is not for this world
And you breathed with torture
In Every Monday
In your farewell
And In your eyes
The breeze loves the moon
And I will weave the leaves of your fig tree...
I will weave your lullabies...
And I will put a white spring orange blossom in your hair again,
And my motherly lullaby will be heard again...
when you were sleeping,
I had put a spring orange blossom in your hair...
and now,
The trees...
And all the flowers
had the sense that
not to stay...
You would hold your hands
to the blossom branches
and play...
And all the blossoms felt like they wouldn't stay...
My ******* grew for you
My womb was formed for you
And I still see you from behind the colored windows of your room...
I can still see your eyes...
The leaves,
are your green eyes...
They are sheer innocence
like the call to prayer at noon,
And your room,
Full of dust and light;
is still a mosque...
Without prayer and prostration
Your rose sees the moon through the soil of your body
Your pink rose,
means flawless happiness...
And the smell of
my motherly dress,
with your
childish smell from the wind,
They start playing again...
I saw you and recognized you again...
And I have never seen
so many green plants
in the soil of your body...
And this means your
New beginnings...
Your primroses,
from the soil of your body... leaves,
of green trees,
and plastic,
They are part of this nature too...
And oh حیآة !
The shock of this tragedy,
your tragedy,
will remain
in the soil of
Middle East...
Oh dear God !
When a happy
and free butterfly,
has been hunted by the sun
at that moment,
I am disgusted
by your thoughts...
https://youtu.be/fqZwKlZdw6w

Stabat mater dolorosa _ pergolesi
The sad mother was standing;
The hymn depicts Mary's suffering while watching her son's crucifixion
They will fall to the ground...
Blossoms of the cherry tree...
Without you,
being in my womb...
ripening grain,
And the heady scent
of primrose flowers
from the moon...
and his dust...


ØšÙ‡ روی زمین خواهند ریخت...
؎کوفه هايِ درختِ آلؚالو...
ØšÛŒ آنکه تو،
در رَحِمَم ؚا؎ي...
دانه اي،
در حالِ رسیدن...
و عطرِ خو؎ِ ٟامچال ها...
از ماه
و خاكِ او....
Mar 2023 · 277
" Burial in the sky "
The aroma of those Lilacs,
will be green...
Its buds...
Your buds...
Among the white dress
they move;
your eyes...
Dead summer cherries...
Among your ears
So they have voice;
your eyes...
And your hands,
 A moment;
suspended
in time....
And how burning they will be this year
the whiteness of your hands,
In the absence of
white orange blossoms
in the garden
In the absence....
https://youtu.be/ITCcWPTIV2Q
I will give birth to you...
from the eucalyptus trees
of the garden;
From the Honeysuckle;
And his eyes...
More scorching than the sun
More scorching than lily...
and i will see you
In the spectrum...
Through the shadows of the trees...
In the absence of a leaf...
I will pick your hands...

تو را خواهم زا؊ید....
از درختانِ اُکالیٟتوسِ ؚاغچه؛
از یاس هایِ امین الدوله؛
و چ؎م های؎....
داغ تر از آفتاؚ...
داغ تر از سوسن...
و تو را خواهم دید....
در طیف...
از میان سایه های درخت...
در غیاؚ یك ؚرگ...
من دست هایت را می چینم....
https://youtu.be/FFJ32r71AJ0
Nov 2022 · 277
حیاة is dead...
در کوه ها صدای غم آلوده ای درد ٟژواک دارد. در دل ؚذرهای خفته در خاک، جاری است خون. و جاری است خون. ٟاییز است و گلی نمی ؎کفد. ٟاییز است و گل من مُرده. در ؎اخه ها ØšÙ„ØšÙ„ ها آواز نمی خوانند. کلاغ ها آواز می خوانند. از آرزوهای قلؚی ام، دستم کوتاه مانده. جراحت ؚر تن دارم. از درون. آه ای گل های رُز از درون! جاری است خون در ترانه های؎... مرا در این جا جست و جو نکن. جست و جو نکن مادر! نامم را، نامم را ؚر در خانه نگو. ؚر گیسوانت ستاره افتاده، آن ها را می چینم. گریه نکن مادر!
در حالی که ØšÙ‡ سان ترانه ای، زیستن می خواستم... ؚر Ù„ØšÙ‡ ی ؎امگاه ایستاده ام. کفن که جیؚ ندارد مادر! ؚر گریؚانم ستاره ُٟر کرده ام... ؚدوید کودکان... آه ؚدوید...
سحرگاهان ØšÙ‡ سویم می آید. خلاصه، مادر زیؚایم وقتی ØšÙ‡ گل می اندی؎ی مو ؚر ؚدنت سیخ نمی ؎ود. خندیدن، امید ساختن، انت؞ار ک؎یدن و یا چ؎م ØšÙ‡ دورها دوختن. انت؞ار ک؎یدن تا ؎اید ؚرای یک ؚار دیگر مرا ؚؚینی مادر!
و آه مادر! مرگ چه چیز عجیؚی است مادر! دیگر نخواهم توانست از دیوارها ؚالا روم تا ؚازی کنم. ٟروانه ها را ؎کار کنم. ؚا ٟرستوهای ؚهاری ٟرواز کردم مادر!
حتی ؚا دارو هم نخواهم توانست چ؎مانم را ØšÙ‡ روی سقف ؚاز نگه دارم مادر!
و نخواهم توانست ٟدر ؎وم!
خاک ؎دن چه چیز غریؚی است مادر!
خاک ؎دن چه چیز غریؚی است مادر!
روح مُقدَّسِ حیاة ؚا ؚهار آمد و ؚا ٟاییز ؚرگ؎ت ØšÙ‡ فرادنیایی که فاني نیست....


روزِ رو؎نِ چهار؎نؚه، Û±Û¹ خُردآد Û±ÛŽÛ°Û°
غروؚِ خور؎یدِ دو؎نؚه، Û³Û° آؚان Û±ÛŽÛ°Û±
گل های زرد....
همون طور که نتونستم جلوی ٟژمرده ؎دنِ گلدونمُ ؚگیرم....
حیاة.... تو ؎اید تلال؀ِ یه نورِ سؚز ؚا؎ی...
وقتی نور خور؎ید،  روی ؎اخ و ؚرگ های درخت انگورِ حیات مون می تاؚید.
الآن درخت انار مرده... درخت سیؚ مرده... درختچه ی گل های نسترن مرده...
همون طور که نتونستم جلوی ٟژمرده ؎دن گلدونمُ ؚگیرم....
حیاة...
تو ؚا سرطان مادرم، در یکی از روزهای سیاه و گرمِ خرداد ØšÙ‡ دنیا اومدی...
و تو اون موقع تنها دوستِ من ؚودی که ؚاهات حرف میزدم.... چون تمومِ گرؚه ها درونگراند... تو ؚخ؎ی از تن من ؎دی و هر لح؞ه، ؚا عواطفِ مادرانه در وجودم.... مثل جنین....
در من ت؎کیل می ؎دی...
و حالا میخوای ؚری حیاة...؟!
دیگه خسته ؎دی...؟!
نمیخوای ؚی؎تر ٟی؎م ؚمونی مهمون کوچولو...؟!
؎اید تو در زندگی قؚلیت، یه ٟسر ØšÚ†Ù‡ ؚودی... ؎اید مادری دا؎تی.... ؎اید اون زن من ؚودم.... که ØšÙ‡ علت ؚیماری، ØšÚ†Ù‡ ا؎ُ از دست داده.... و این چرخه ی روح تا الآن ادامه دا؎ته... و ؎اید در زندگیِ ؚعدیت، من فقط "یك صدا" از تو ؚا؎م حیاة.... 🌱🌞
نه من اعتراض دارم آقای قاضی...!
من ØšÙ‡ جؚر ایمان نمیارم...
چرا ؚاید عمرِ ٟروانه ها ؚی؎تر از کودکان ؚا؎ه...؟! چرا ؚاید سرطان، ام اس، ؚیماری های نقص مادرزادی، و ویروس های دست ساز آدما وجود دا؎ته ؚا؎ه....؟!
نه من اعتراض دارم آقای قاضی...!
من ØšÙ‡ جؚر ایمان نمیارم....
همون طور که نتونستم جلوی ٟژمرده ؎دن گلدونمُ ؚگیرم....
حیاة....
من ماهِ گرمِ مرداد،
وقتی تو دا؎تی ؚا جانا ؚازی میکردی؛
دیدم تو هوا، دو تا قاصدک دا؎تن ؚاهم ٟرواز میکردن... یه قاصدک ؚزرگ، و یه قاصدک کوچیک، که خیلی ØšÙ‡ هم نزدیک ؚودن... انگار دستِ همُ گرفته ؚودن...
؎اید توی آؚيِ آسمون، اون من و تو ؚودیم حیاة....
؎اید ؚریم یه جایی که مجؚور نؚا؎ی ٟاتُ ؚذاری روی آجر و سیمان....
ؚریم جایی که توی د؎تِ
گل های سؚز و زرد دویده ؚا؎ی...
ؚا ؚاد رقصیده ؚا؎ی....
ؚا یک قلؚ سالم....
که ØšÙ‡ نفس... نفس... افتادن نیوفتی حیآة.... 🌞🌱
من ٟ؎ت سرت توی آسمون ع؞یم و ترسناک آسمون آؚی، یه اؚر دیدم که ؎ناور ؚود.... دا؎ت از هم ؚاز می؎د.... ØŽÚ©Ù„ های دیگه ای می؎د... اجزا؎ از هم ؚاز می؎د.... ٟراکنده و از ؚین می رفت....
و این یعنی غم.... ناله....
از وقتی فهمیدم قلؚ و ریه های حیآة Ù…ØŽÚ©Ù„ مادرزادی دارن و زیاد عمر نمیکنه؛
فکر خودک؎ی مثل یک نجوا ؚرام تکرار می؎ه ؚی؎تر از Ù‚ØšÙ„ و مرتؚاً خواؚ می ؚینم...
سه ؎نؚه خواؚ دیدم رو ØšÙ‡ روی یه ٟنجره ام، هوا مثل اینکه ؚهار یا تاؚستون ؚود. رو ØšÙ‡ روم ٟر ؚود از درختچه های زغال اخته، دستم ØšÙ‡ ؎اخه ها می رسید. زغال اخته ها خیلی قرمز دیده مي ؎د و رو؎ون ؚرف ن؎سته ؚود ؚا اینکه خور؎ید، رو؎ن ؚود..‌.
یادم نمونده زیاد از خواؚ
و نمی دونم چرا ؎ما رو دیدم
که روی صندلی ناهارخوری ما ن؎سته ؚودید آقای عمادی....
مانند اولین ؚاران در زمینی ؚایر
مانند نوزادی که ؚرای اولین ؚار
دستِ مادر؎ را لمس می کند
مانند  آیه ای که
ØšÙ‡ طور اتفاقی ؎نیدم و آرامم کرد
مانند نو؎یدن آؚ
در یک ؚعد از ؞هرِ گرم و طاقت فرسا،
احساس لمس دست های حیآة ؚود ... 🌱🌞
Nov 2022 · 121
The Cranberry Tree
Since I found out that Hayat's heart and lungs have a congenital problem and he will not live long; The thought of suicide repeats like a whisper to me more than before and I dream regularly... On Tuesday, I dreamed that I was facing a window, the weather was like spring or summer. In front of me, it was full of cranberry bushes, my hand could reach the branches. The cranberries were very red and there was snow on them even though the sun was bright... I don't remember much about sleep And I don't know why I saw you sitting on our dining chair, Mr. Emadi...
Like the first rain
on a barren land...
Like a baby for the first time
touching his mother's hand... Like the Surah,
that I heard it by chance
and calming me down...
Like drinking water
On a hot and exhausting afternoon,
It was the feeling of the touch of  حیآة's hands....
Oct 2022 · 143
Sunflower fields in Khoi
I've understood
the world
slowly,
as a carnation
in the February...
The lungs of حیاة
were too small...
And I could still have
maternal feelings.....
I remembered...
Your laughter on one of the bright mornings of May...
  And the May is gone..... Happiness,
is like a gold bangle...
My mother never wore it...
Oct 2022 · 237
Untitled
...ثلاث خطوات لمدينة جديدة
Oct 2022 · 158
Untitled
You are quiet... 
but everything was alive
under your eyes....
Oct 2022 · 128
Untitled
Nothing is as dark as my body
and you are sad...
Oct 2022 · 149
Chinese flute*
Wooden mats...
Wind...
And full of bright spots...
Noon,
I'll watch you eating lunch
I'll get you lemon juice...
In the garden,
I've planted Rose flowers
for حیاة🌞
Sunshine...
Green leaves...
And the shining of a color...
I sewed my child's dress...
Your body dancing...
your body has the swallows...
And grapes...
You have not drunk milk
from my *******...
and your balloons
remain in my childhood...
In the spring,
the femininity of my womb,
full of apple blossoms
and زهر الرؚیع *
Its cranes flying
To your palm trees...
And my ears are in the sky...
زهرالرؚیع = primrose flowers
Chinese flute = The song I play for him every night
Despite everything the birds said to the trees all the time it was warm, they left them in the touch of cold...
The breeze that touched my face now was a little warm, I think it passed from you first...

رغم كلّ ما قالته العصافير للأ؎جارِ طوال الوقت الداف؊، هجرتْها في مسِّ الؚرد...
الهواء الذي لامس وجهي الآن كان فيه ؚعضٌ من الدفء، أ؞ن أنه مرّ عليك أولًا...
https://youtu.be/svCHu40L5vs

يوما _ سماك 🌺☁
Smile...
I count the stars...
⭐ ⭐ ⭐
that scatter...
from your eyes....
⭐🌞⭐🌞⭐🌙
https://youtu.be/IkjC1SzJJOo
Sep 2022 · 291
"451 days ago"
...؎ی؎ه های رنگي
آوازِ آفتآؚ گردان ها
🌻🊋🌻🊋🌻
...و یك ٟروآنه یِ زرد
🊋
مادر ؚودن؛
و تلال؀ِ زرد و
سؚزِ
ؚرگ هایِ انگور
....در چ؎م های؎
🌿☀🌿🌿🌿

Colored glasses...
The song of sunflowers...
🌻🊋🌻🊋🌻
And a yellow butterfly...
🊋
being a mother;
And the yellow and
green glitter of
grape leaves
In his eyes....
🌿☀🌿🌿🌿
2021 June 9, Wednesday🌺🊋
Sep 2022 · 339
Bewailing The Saturnine Rat
Thoughts,
ate my flesh
like parasites...
and I just grew darker
day by day....
Aug 2022 · 106
🌞حياة
Your glance,
Carrying the scent of
red carnations...
When the bud blooms...
When the cherries die...  
Through your childhood ears...
Summer,
I'd bring you the vase
with bare feet...
The pomegranate tree
Is gone..... 
And I don't know...
How to fly through that window?
A yellow glow...
Among the palm trees of
Agave amica...
The smell of  the sun...
From behind the
green mulberry trees...
My mother's voice...
And sliding Two white dandelions
On the skin of my hand...

نگاهت،
عَطرِ میخك های سرخ...
زماني که
؎کوفه ها
گل داده اند....
زماني که
مي میرند....
گیلاس ها،
از لا ØšÙ‡ لایِ
گو؎ های ØšÚ†Ú¯ÙŠ ات....
تاؚستان،
گلدان را
ؚا ٟای ؚرهنه ؚرایت می آوردم...
درختِ انار مُرده...
و من نمي دانم....
چگونه می توان از آن ٟنجره رفت؟
درخ؎؎ي زَرد...
از میانِ نخل های گل مریم...
ØšÙˆÛŒ آفتاؚ...
از ٟ؎ت درخت های توت سؚز...
صدای مادرم...
و لغزیدنِ
دو قاصدك سفید
ØšÙ‡ روی ٟوست دستم...

Listen to حیاة🌞 by yasaman johari on #SoundCloud
https://soundcloud.com/user-75031766/spyd72nz7975?ref=clipboard&p=a&c=1&si=31c0c1c9a4234f9c851a431ef7e49896&utmsource=clipboard&utmmedium=text&utmcampaign=socialsharing
La La mother's flower...
La La mother's flower...
Mom loves you so much...
She grows roses for you...
La La lily flower...
Hit the wings and hit the wings and flying up...
La La fig leaf...
Don't weave my hair late...
La La moon and star...
The sun is gone...
The flower is awake...
La La moon's flower...
La La moon's flower...
Don't be impatient anymore... Don't be impatient anymore...
La La mother's life...
La La mother's life...
لا لا گل مادر
لا لا عزیز مادر
مادر خیلی دوستت داره...
ؚرات گل رُز می کاره...
لا لا گل سوسن...
ؚزن ؚال و
ؚزن ؚال و
ؚزن ٟر....
لا لا ؚرگ انجیر
زلفامو نؚافی دیر...
لا لا
ماه و
ستاره...
خور؎ید رفته...
گل ؚیداره...
لا لا گل مهتاؚ...
لا لا گل مهتاؚ...
چ؎ات ن؎ه دیگه ØšÛŒ تاؚ...
چ؎ات ن؎ه دیگه ØšÛŒ تاؚ...
لا لا عمر مادر....
لا لا عمر مادر....
Not coming out
Spring...
Except through
Your fingers ...
Through Your eyes ...
A rainbow,
arched over rice fields
frogs,
Start croaking...

I Become a mother ...
In A bright Sunny day ...

Illinois cornfield...
too many fireflies at once
too many fireflies...

Oh my little black star!
I know the grooves between your hands...
Smelling you Among my bright motherly clothes
Oh white and free lily,
In my June ...!
The butterfly’s
flaming wings
on the rim of the birdbath...
You are the
  Honeysuckle,
Blooming in the wind ...
You are a fetus,
You have not been
In my femininity
womb ...
O my flesh!
O my spring!
And O beyond my
cadaver...!
Rainbows dancing
Happily...
In the glitter of your eyes ...
Oh, my flower of the moon!
Lala, Lala
Dahlia flowers...
The sun is gone
The night has come ...
Lala, Lala
Chrysanthemum flowers,
Coco's chicken will sing again
Lala, Lala Velvet flowers ...
A deer sleeps in the forest
Lala, Lala
The flower of Moonlight ...
A firefly is in the meadow
Lala, Lala
Tulip flowers...
The leopard moaning a lot
in the mountains...
Lala, Lala
Almond flowers ...
Sweet flowers, sleep quietly
Lala, Lala
Zinnia flowers...
My baby can wake up
tomorrow...
Spring's entry... ⛅🌿
From a nearby tea grove...
🌿🌿🌿
A lady's song fills my cup...

Glass plate,
With apple blossoms 🌌🍎
and rose hips...
Cranes fly south...
To my mother's palm trees...
🌎🌎🌎
snowy garden
full of wild apples🍏❄
bare branches...

Apple season, 🍎🌞
The slow ripening
of my womb...

Apple pie,
smells like Muhammad’s hands
cinnamon...
🌞🌞🌞

Second spring lockdown,
☀🌿
Gazing at the daffodils
From the first one...
🌌🌌🌌
Open window,
Under the Silver mulberry tree,
The voice of a srange woman...

Red grains,
From magnolia cones,🌺
Grandmother's beads...

Among the water of 🌊
a fish bowl, 🐟
My first apple blossoms...
🌞🍏🌿 🌞🍎🌌🌞
Disappear into the stars...
⭐🐟⭐🌊🐟⭐🐟🐟 ⭐
فَصلِّ سیؚ...
ُؚويِّ دَست هآيِ خوآهَرَم...
ُؚودِه اي...

۱۱ آذَر
Your hair,
Smelling like the sun...
The taste of sweet summer cherries,
Still dancing in the aroma of your eyes...
And brightly colored lilac curtains in your room ...
putting a glass on your table.
The air,
Moving the clouds in your chest...

The light is on...!
The curtain, allows light to enter...

" My Jasmine...!? "
" I love you..."  ( With the sound of laughter ) "

Your voice,
Was a rainbow... 🌈
If the sound was colored...

You are a river...
passing through
my neck...
I have fallen...
Near the daffodil flowers in your eyes...
I will become a thousand small fish...
A thousand trembling goldfish in the pond...
🐟🌊 🐟🐟🐟🌊 🐟🌊

" Oh that blue whirligig!!!
The yellow....!
And the pink one...!
I'm seeing those shiny whirligigs
of your childhood... "
What was the sound of your blowing like?
Your eyes,
giving a thousand colors and memories...

You are floating...
passing through the sound of a woman's laughter...
I will never wear a wedding dress...
To paint on its whites...
I have no child !!!

Oh september!
The end of colored paper...
And the beginning of the blue sun...
You are my mother's breast cancer...
That Growing inside of me...
I thought I was pregnant...
Last night !!!
Touching the curvature of my belly...
From the top of my white knickers
With its bright pink flowers...
When my mother's scarf turns to twenty-nine years old again!

" My Jasmine...?! "
" I love you... "

In illusion,
The voice of a woman...
Calling you...
From afar...

You have reached near the window...
Looking at me...
turning to you...
White lace dress...
Laughter In The Sun....
☀
From the sound of which woman's laughter, am I reaching to you now?
In your ear,
I become a thousand voices...
The play of the sun's rays, On the tip of my brown *******, getting hot...

Closing my eyes...
I always think If I was blind, How could I understand that  the sound of the sea is blue?!
The leaves of the trees are green!?
In glitter...
In the melancholy of the golden leaves of May...
Your face, dancing
Among the glitter of golden winds ...
And the grape leaf,☘
Greeting me...

Thinking of you...
From afar...
How are your hands moving?!
Does my mother's earrings have the yellowness of the sunflowers?
🌻🌻
Every sound,
becoming your voice...
Now...
Cheese crystals...
Pieces of barbari bread on the table...
The pungent odor of tangerine,
In my mother's hands...
And a tomato...
I'm dying now...!
مَن الآن مي ميرَم...!
But I'm happy That I know you...
امّا خُو؎حآلَم که تُو رآ...
In the past and the future...
دَر گُذَ؎ته و آیَنده مي ؎ِنآسَم...
You have been...!
ُؚودِه اي...!

Narrated by me in persian
:-) 🌞

Check out yasaman johari on #SoundCloud
https://soundcloud.com/user-75031766?ref=clipboard&p=a&c=1&si=70b647950d594634a8fe6674d6f38aa7&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
The smell of the apple's body...
🍎🌌

The sun... ☀

Dry smell of unripe persimmons
🍅🍁 🍅🍁☘

Among the buttons of my dress...

Folding the sun... ☀
On the clothesline...
Like The whiteness of the Childhood hands...
🌌🌌🌌

A cloud, ☁
At the top of the mountain...
⛰              â˜ïžðŸŽˆâ˜ïžâ˜ïžðŸŽˆ

I'm the length of
the spike wheat... 🌟
And your eyes...
The time of harvesting...
🌟🌟🌟

spring equinox, ☘🌞
half the blossoms
already fallen...
I'm in love with a man
From May... ☘☘☀☘
The sky was bluer than ever...
آسِمآن آؚي تر از هَمی؎ه ُؚود...
  And I remember all the peach blossoms...
و مَن تَمآمِ ؎ِکُوفِه هآيِ هُلو را ØšÙ‡ خآطِر دآرَم...
That golden glitter in your eyes...
آن َؚرقِ رُو؎َنِ Ú†ÙŽØŽÙ… هآیَت...

" You smell like the dust
and all blue jasmines...! "

And I always want spring...
وَ مَن دُوست دآرَم هَمی؎ه َؚهآر ؚآ؎َد...
When the bud blooms...
زَمآني کِه ؎ِکُوفِه گُل مي دَهَد...

Blue slickers,
Children growing
In the rain...
💧💧💧

After seeing the red carnations ....
The dream of the
White breaths of a lily flower
In the old days of a man...

Being by your side,
Still carrying
The aroma of
Cherry blossoms...
🌞🍒 🌞🍒☘
Your forehead, All the fig trees...
🍑🌳🌳🍑🌳 🌳🌳🌳 ☘🍑

My hand, dropping you
Into the sky... 🎈
Will we get to the summer?
And I don't ask anymore...
Why does my cancerous mother lose her hair?
Why am I not pregnant?
Not feeling the fetus kicking in my womb...
My dress is not blue...?!
After Saadat Abad Street...
At that time,
When my mother's lily petals,
Falling down
On the iranian carpet...


You have been...!
ُؚودِه اي...!
https://soundcloud.com/baconhwang/katz-hoshi-safflower-picking-in-the-rain?ref=clipboard&p=a&c=0&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing
I got your name
From wheats...
Getting your eyes
From poppy flowers and the sun...
My mother still sings
Over my head...
Over the threeyearold shirt...
Millions of stars and white almond blossoms,
Growing side by side in your black hair...
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh my eglantine flower!
We were created from dust...
Why don't we flourish?!
The walnut tree smiled at us...
Bright,
The water is...
Bright,
The air is...
Knitting my heart
In the middle of the wind...
My heart is suspended
With her moving red scarf...
The walnut tree smiled again
It had dried out...
We cried together...
Two teardrops from me...
Two teardrops from walnut tree...
We cried together...
Two teardrops from me...
Two teardrops from walnut tree...
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh my eglantine flower!
Knitting your dress
To play with white and fluffy clouds...
Dancing with rainbow...
Because I know
All the *****
Are fertilized in the
Same short moments of
Happiness...
I don't know about you...
But I will die one day,
With my young,
Lush,
And beautiful *******...
The olive branches grew old...
They wore beautiful clothes
On me...
Clothes that were not for me anymore...
They have changed the color of the sky...
The thousands balloons
Of mine...
The thousands balloons
Of yours...
The balloons,
Popping among thighs...
Until the children are born sad...
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh eglantine flower!
Oh my eglantine flower!
Comb your hair...
They have not been braided for a long time...
You were running...
Running to the end of the blue scarf...
They have taken your picture
You were a photo...
Oh my eyes...!
My feelings are left somewhere...
In the circle of big rops that I jumped...
Spotted hair in the sunlight...
I didn't hear our laughter
The clothes were soft...
My sister and I will not die?!
Can we play as long as we want?!
And hot August is Autumn for me...
The Autumn winds,
Blowing in my flesh...
The Autumn clouds,
Moving inside myself...
Keeping your childhood's memory...
Your drawing book...
Your green balloons...
Stars and your alphabet
In my womb...
The seeds of your
White jasmine flowers
Are blossoming from my *******...
And I'm pregnant with
All your eyes...
Oh the eyes of the
Wild chrysanthemum!
Oh the eyes of the
Wild chrysanthemum!
Even death will not be my freedom...


نامت را از گندم ها گرفته ام
چ؎م هایت را
از گل های ؎قایق و خور؎ید
هنوز مادرم ؚالای سرم
آواز می خواند
...ؚالای ٟیراهن سه سالگی
از لا ØšÙ‡ لای موهای سیاهت
میلیون ها ؎کوفه ی سفید ؚادام و ستاره ؎کفته اند
!گل نسترن
!گل نسترن
!ای گل نسترن
از خاک آفریده ؎دیم
گل چرا ندهیم!؟
...درخت گردو ØšÙ‡ ما خندید
...آؚ رو؎ن است
...هوا رو؎ن
قلؚم، را ؚافتم
در میان ؚاد
در تکان خوردن های روسری خواهرم
روسری ا؎ سرخ ؚود
درخت گردو خندید
او را دیدم
خ؎ک ؎ده ؚود
...ما ؚاهم گریه کردیم
دو قطره ا؎ک از من
دو قطره ا؎ک از درخت گردو
...ما ؚاهم گریه کردیم
دو قطره ا؎ک از من
دو قطره ا؎ک از درخت گردو
!گل نسترن
!گل نسترن
!ای گل نسترن
ٟیراهن ات را ؚافته ام
تا اؚرهای سفید و ٟنؚه ای ؚازی کنی
ؚا رنگین کمان ؚرقصی
چون می دانم تمام تخمک ها
در میان همان لح؞ه های
کوتاهِ ؎ادمانی
...ؚارور می ؎وند
تو را نمی دانم
اما من، یک روز
ؚا سینه های جوان، ؎اداؚ
و زیؚایم خواهم مرد
...؎اخه های زیتون ٟیر می ؎وند
لؚاس های زیؚا ØšÙ‡ تنم کرده اند
لؚاس هایی که ؚرای خودم نؚود
...رنگ آسمان را عوض کرده اند
هزار ؚادکنک تو
هزار ؚادکنک من
،ؚادکنک ها
میان ران های ٟا می ترکند
...ØšÚ†Ù‡ ها غمگین ØšÙ‡ دنیا می آیند
!گل نسترن
!گل نسترن
!ای گل نسترن
موهایت را ؎انه کن
خیلی وقت است که دیگر گیس نمی ؎وند
...تو می دویدی
در انتهای ؎الی آؚی رنگ
تصویرت را ثؚت کرده اند
...عکس ؚودی
...چ؎مانم
...احساس من جایی مانده است
...در دایره ی طناؚ های ؚزرگ که ٟریدم
...موهایی مقطع در نورِ خور؎ید
خنده هامان را ن؎نیدم
لؚاس ها لطیف ؚود
من و خواهرم می توانیم نمی ریم!؟
تا هروقت که دلمان خواست ؚازی کنیم!؟
...و مرداد گرم ؚرای من ٟا؊یز است
در جسم من می وزد
...ؚادهای ٟا؊یز
در من حرکت می کنند
...اؚرهای ٟا؊یز
در رَحِم خاطرات ØšÚ†Ú¯ÛŒ هایت را نگه می دارم
دفتر نقا؎ی و ؚادؚادک های سؚزت را
ستاره ها و حروف الفؚایت را
،دانه ی گل یاست
...از نوک ٟستان هایم ؎کفته است
و تمام چ؎م هایت را ؚاردارم
!آخ چ؎م های گل آهار
!آخ چ؎م های گل آهار
...حتی مرگ هم آزادی من نخواهد ؚود
Knitting your muffler
As childhood...
Your black dress smells of me
I can't see the white jasmine flower without you...
"You are a jasmine flower yourself"
"My jasmine flower..."
Oh, my sweet little friend !
Play with me
In the glimpse of childhood memory
Wanting your shoes
Crying to the sun...
Cut my black hair
Turning to a balloon for you
Reaching to the city of you...

؎ال گردنت را می ؚافم
...مثل ØšÚ†Ú¯ÛŒ
ٟیراهن سیاهت ØšÙˆÛŒ مرا می دهد
نمی توانم گُلِ یاسِ سفید را ØšÛŒ تو ؚؚینم
"تو خودت گُلِ یاسی"
..."تو گُلِ یاسِ منی"
!دوستِ کوچک و ؎یرینِ من
ØšÙ‡ یاد ØšÚ†Ú¯ÛŒ
ؚا من ؚازی کن
کف؎ های تو را می خواهم
تا آفتاؚ گریه کنم
موهای سیاهم را ُؚِؚر
ؚادؚادکی ؚرای تو می ؎وم
...ØšÙ‡ ؎هر تو می رسم
I was a bird
ٟرنده ای ؚودم
In the sky
From your eyes...
...در آسمانی از چَ؎مانِ تو
When you didn't see me flying
در آن هنگام
که ٟروازم را حس نمی کردی

Why are your eyes so beautiful?!
چرا چَ؎مانِ تو آنقدر زیؚاست!؟
That I released the lock of hair
To your wide blue sky...
که من موهایم را
...در آسمانِ ٟهنِ آؚیِ تو رها کردم
Giving you my yellow bangles,
The books of the school to be read,
And painting your smiles blue...
So beautiful have you been,
Not wanting my nakedness,
Not wanting my hair.
Passing your hands
Through all of my dresses.
And blue earrings,
Having the sound of my smiles and yours...
And I only remember your teeth.

النگوهای زردم را ØšÙ‡ تو می دهم
کتاؚ های مدرسه خوانده می ؎وند
و خنده هایت را رنگ آؚی می زنم
،تو آنقدر زیؚا ؚوده ای
که ؚرهنگی ام را نمی خواهند
موهایم را نمی خواهند
...چ؎م های تو زیؚاست
دست هایت را میان تمام لؚاس هایم ک؎یده ام
،گو؎واره های آؚی
صدای خنده های من و تو را می دهند
و من فقط دندان های تو را ØšÙ‡ خاطر می سٟارم
Jul 2019 · 820
''Post Card''
Your sun is laughing in my heart...
...خور؎ید تو در قلؚ من می خندد
Your eyes laughing with me...
...چ؎م هایت ؚا من می خندند
A light on your lips, maybe
؎اید نوری روی Ù„Øš هایت ؚا؎د
I don't know...
...نمی دانم
The sky doesn't smell of you
آسمان ØšÙˆÛŒ تو را نمی دهد
Wanting my young and happy ******* with you
من سینه های جوان و خو؎حالم را ؚا تو می خواستم
The frenzy of my eyes, will make you fall in love?!
آیا ؎ور چ؎م های من, تو را عا؎ق خواهند کرد!؟
The innocence of your eyes, will take me to my childhood?!
آیا معصومیت چ؎م های تو, مرا ØšÙ‡ کودکی هایم خواهند ؚرد!؟
The only place that I can be a bird
تنها جایی که می توانم ٟرنده ؚا؎م
Learning the flying freely!
! آزاد ٟرواز کردن را یاد ؚگیرم
I've brought your hands
من دست های تو را آورده ؚودم
Your eyes laughing with me
چ؎م هایت ؚا من می خندند
Feeling the greenness of the trees
درخت های سؚز را احساس می کنم
leaves, laughing
ؚرگ ها می خندند
and the wind,
،و ؚاد
whispering woefullest season in my heart
غمگین ترین فصل را در قلؚ من نجوا می کند
The sun, should be yellow?!
خور؎ید، ؚاید زرد ؚا؎د!؟
The white clouds, should be far away?!
اؚرهای سفید، ؚاید دور ؚا؎ند!؟
The air is young for me...
...هوا ؚرایم 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 چ؎ید
Loving your eyes ''The God of jasmine flower''
'' چ؎م هایت را دوست دارم ''خدای گل یاسمن
I love your voice and your guitar, the God of jasmine flower...
...من صدای تو و گیتار تو را دوست دارم خدای گل یاسمن من
I will make a balloon for you...
My sister's eyes are smiling
Knowing you in all the rays of the sun
Being alive with you all the times
Giving me flight to the blue skies
with smiling jasmine flowers
with the whiteness of dandelions
and the rainbow of my sister's laughter
How people are more beautiful, there
I will make a balloon for you...
Putting on children's clothes,
We steal all the tears and smiles from them
I'm dreaming,
My sister
falling on the ground
from my father's and mother's hands
Running to her...
Cleaning the dust on her hat and dress
Taking her hands
Walking together
Finding her small hands
in the darkness of my heart, like a light
I'm crying,
Traveling, back to the past
Telling her : you don't know how much
you've grown up now!!!
A time that cannot be repeated anymore...
Friday morning,
Waking up with tears
I'm dreaming...
Siting alongside the flowers with you
I can kiss your lips for the first time
Your eyes are innocent till now, ''my God of jasmine flowers''
I love you
I love you
I love you
Giving your kind heart to God
and never leave you alone
Remembering a beautiful girl
Having black hair
in the scorching evenings of summer
wearing golden earrings
Siting on all the unhappy bicycles and
Making love to them
Not having the warmth of your eyes,''God of jasmine flower''
My mother, laughing at your hands
I love the song of birds...
I will make a balloon for you
under the shadow of the trees
which I've made my house
Somewhere that I've drawn eyes
Now, I'm seeing white clouds, round
Please, do not take pencil and paper from me...

...ؚادؚادکی ؚرایت خواهم ساخت
چ؎مان خواهرم خندیده اند
در تمام ا؎عه های خور؎ید
تو را می ؎ناسم
در تمام زمان ها
ؚا تو زنده خواهم ؚود
مرا ØšÙ‡ سوی آسمان های آؚی ٟرواز ؚدهید
ؚا گل های ؎اد یاسمن
ؚا سفیدی قاصدک ها
...و رنگین کمان خنده های خواهرم
چقدر آدم ها آن جا زیؚاترند
...ؚادؚادکی ؚرای تو خواهم ساخت
لؚاس های کودکانه ØšÙ‡ تن می کنم
تمام ا؎ک ها و لؚخندهای؎ان را دزدیده ایم
خواؚ می ؚینم
خواهرم
از دست ٟدرومادرم
ØšÙ‡ زمین می خورد
من ØšÙ‡ سمت او دویده ام
خاک های روی کلاه و لؚاس؎ را ٟاک می کنم
دست های؎ را گرفتم
ؚا هم راه می رویم
دست های Ú©ÙˆÚ†Ú©ØŽ مانند نور
در تاریکی قلؚم ٟیدا می ؎وند
...دارم گریه می کنم
ØšÙ‡ زمان گذ؎ته سفر کرده ؚودم
ØšÙ‡ او گفتم : تو نمی دانی
!!! الآن چقدر ؚزرگ ؎ده ای
...زمانی که دیگر تکرار نمی ؎ود
صؚح جمعه
...ؚا گریه از خواؚ می ٟرم
خواؚ می ؚینم
ؚا تو در کنار گل ها ن؎سته ام
دیگر می توانم ؚرای اولین ؚار
Ù„Øš های تو را ؚؚوسم
چ؎م هایت تاکنون معصوم ؚوده اند
'' خدای همی؎ه گل یاسمن من''
دوستت دارم
دوستت دارم
دوستت دارم
من قلؚ مهرؚان تو را ØšÙ‡ خدا می سٟارم
و هیچوقت تنهایت نمی گذارم
دختری زیؚا را ØšÙ‡ خاطر ؚیاور
که موهایی Ù…ØŽÚ©ÛŒ دارد
در عصرهای گرم تاؚستان
ؚا گو؎واره های طلایی در گو؎؎
روی تمام دوچرخه های ناراحت می ن؎یند
و هم آغو؎ی می کند
گرمای چ؎م های تو را ندارد
''خدای گل یاسمن''
مادرم ØšÙ‡ دست های تو می خندد
...صدای ٟرنده ها را دوست دارم
...ؚادؚادکی خواهم ساخت
زیر سایه ی درختانی که خانه ام را ساخته ام
جایی که چ؎م ها را نقا؎ی ک؎یده ام
...دیگر اؚرهای سفید را گرد می ؚینم
خواه؎ می کنم
مداد و کاغذم را از من نگیرید
God creates
The colors are beautiful
I lost the hands of God
Wearing my long blue skirt
My feelings become intense
I'm a young girl
with a round face
My eyes narrow at the corners when they smile
Smiles brought about by a girl and a boy
Passing through all his smiles
Having a smell of my childhood dresses
Similar to all paintings in my drawing book
of that river
Sharp mountain
and ugly crows
''I love you, God of jasmine flower''
No one knows the death of flowers
Just telling that flowers are beautiful forever
and time is the murderer
Wanting my mother's arms
Her ******* are beautiful
I smiled, knowing a pleasure
that will not be in my ****** relationship
The sky smells of death
Last night I dreamed that a flower was dead
I saw death  
Go out of my window
with white curtains
We are playing
Making songs and dancing
Humans didn't accept the dreams
''I love you so much, God of jasmine flower''
Big
Round
and beautiful
Innocent and depressed
His eyes, are
His hands will be for whom?!
Both his eyes flew
One day, all the birds in the sky will grow up
and will have no hands anymore
Your hands have two jasmine flowers
and I will taste them till the end of my life
His eyes are beautiful
I will see the sunset in whose eyes?!
Sewing all the floral white dresses of women, tender
Devoting my eyes to my mother
Giving my heart to my sister
''How much I love your eyes''
Eglantine flower has the most beautiful smiles
The sun is young for me
The God of jasmine flower is happy
A light has remained in my heart
with his leaving
I repeated it, endlessly
and keeping his soul in my heart
Now, he is a happy butterfly
has grown up
Fluttering, slowly
Sitting on all the flowers
It is happy and free
Children and rainbows always follow the butterflies
The death of each flower is not beautiful
''The God of jasmine flower''
Oh, beautiful flower !
Still wearing your childhood golden earrings?!
Your playmates calling you
among scorching summer grass
Do you hear the innocence in children's smiles?!
The jasmine's hair is long and dark
Butterflies
dancing
and gone...

خداوند می آفریند
رنگ ها زیؚایند
دست های خدا را گم کردم
دامن ؚلند آؚی ام را ٟو؎یده ام
عواطف من زیاد ؎ده است
دختر جوانی هستم
ؚا صورتی ٟهن
چ؎مانی که وقتی می خندد
گو؎ه های؎ نازک می ؎وند
خنده هایی که یک دختر و ٟسر می سازند
از میان تمام خنده های؎ می گذرم
ØšÙˆÛŒ ٟیراهن کودکی هایم را می دهد
ØŽÚ©Ù„ تمام نقا؎ی های دفترم را دارد
ؚا آن رود
کوهی تیز
و کلاغ های ز؎ت
''دوستت دارم خدای گل یاسمن''
...کسی مرگ گل ها را نمی داند
فقط می گویند ؚرای همی؎ه زیؚایند
و زمان قاتل است
آغو؎ مادرم را می خواهم
سینه های او زیؚاست
می خندم
لذتی که در راؚطه ی جنسی ام نخواهم ؚرد
آسمان ØšÙˆÛŒ مرگ می دهد
دی؎ؚ خواؚ دیدم که یک گل مرده
مرگ را دیدم
که از ٟنجره ی اتاقم
ؚا ٟرده های سفید ؚیرون رفت
ؚازی می کنیم
آهنگ می نوازیم و می رقصیم
انسان ها ر؀یاها را نٟذیرفتند
''من خیلی تو را دوست دارم خدای گل یاسمن''
چ؎م های او
در؎ت
گرد
و زیؚاست
معصوم و افسرده است
دست های او مال چه کسی خواهند ؚود!؟
تمام چ؎م های؎ ٟرواز کردند
روزی تمام ٟرنده های آسمان ؚزرگ خواهند ؎د
و دیگر دست نخواهند دا؎ت
دست هایت دو گل یاس دارد
''خدای گل یاسمن''
و من تا آخرعمر آن ها را خواهم چ؎ید
چ؎م های او زیؚاست
غروؚ را در چ؎مان چه کسی خواهم دید!؟
تمام لؚاس های سفید گل دار زنان را لطیف دوخته ام
چ؎م هایم را ØšÙ‡ مادرم هدیه کنید
قلؚم را ØšÙ‡ خواهرم ؚدهید
''چه قدر چ؎م های تو را دوست دارم''
زیؚاترین خنده ها را گل نسترن دارد
آفتاؚ
ؚرایم تازه است
خدای گل یاسمن ؎اد است
ؚا رفتن؎
نوری در قلؚم ماند
که مدام تکرار؎ کردم
و روح؎ را در قلؚم نگه دا؎ته ام
او الآن ٟروانه ای ؎اد است
ؚزرگ ؎ده
که آرام ؚال می زند
روی تمام گل ها می ن؎یند
آزاد و ؎اد است
ØšÚ†Ù‡ ها و رنگین کمان ها همی؎ه ØšÙ‡ دنؚال ٟروانه ها می گردند
مرگ هر گل زیؚا نیست
''خدای گل یاسمن''
! ای گل زیؚا
گو؎واره های طلایی کودکی هایت را هنوز داری!؟
همؚازی هایت
از میان چمن های داغ تاؚستان
صدایت می زنند
معصومیت خنده های کودکانه را می ؎نوی!؟
موهای یاسمن ؚلند و سیاه است
ٟروانه ها
رقصیدند
و رفته اند
May 2018 · 621
Habibaty
Love, this is the home of craggy sorrow
Each bleak house hugs a solitary widow
Waiting more at a pale silent window
Which portends the dead empty path
This carry the northern cold winds
Of early mornings into the gloomy strath,
Folding time, impatience and wrath,
And all day long, become friends
Footsteps' echoes and pattering of little ones,
Nabbing illusions of joyful shades of tones,
And miserable hearts those endowed anxiety,
And eyes, lips and noses always ready to cry,
Yet how they are innocent, ignorant and pretty.
O love, how the untold words are never dry,
And never desert me like the green in a cedar
Everlasting homage to warmth of leaves,
I doubt that my absence should less differ;
I believe when time rashly counts and leaves,
I should feel your waiting when I disappear
Holding close to my soul your rich serenity,
I should roam your world like a dead star;
Long ago vanished, yet glistens bright and clear
Like your sad eyes when full of precious tears
Those guard your peace and banish your fears.

Written by
Jamal Abboud
I fondled you with my hands
I didn't remember my eyes
I forgot my stories
When I felt you in my little heart
I don't know...
Maybe
The grain field was beautiful in my dreams
My ******* are be beautiful, too
When your lips become golden
I didn't want the sky...

ؚا دست هایم
...تو را نواز؎ می کردم
چ؎م هایم یادم نؚود
قصه هایم را فرامو؎ می کردم
وقتی که تو را در قلؚ کوچکم احساس می کردم
...نمی دانم
؎اید
در خواؚ هایم  Ú¯Ù†Ø¯Ù… زار زیؚا ؚا؎د
سینه هایم زیؚا ؚا؎ند
Ù„Øš های تو طلایی ؚا؎د
...من که آسمان را نمی خواستم
Feb 2018 · 660
EXISTENCE
===============
eyes see
moonly face
misses the knife
In hand
Good intentions
Change hell
Into heaven
Touches soft,
Rough, tough
But
True
Existence

Written by
~~~Jawahar Gupta~~~
Feb 2018 · 469
Untitled
I try to defend her love
For me against a predator
All she repay was labeling me
With words that pierce into me
As did sun onto a water

Written by
Martin Ijir
Feb 2018 · 458
Are you tired
Are you tired of killing us
Here I stand **** me
Are you tired of maltreating me
Here I stand devour me

How will you reap my flesh
How will you cook my bones
How will you drink my blood
How will you stop my tears

Here I stand presenting the cup of agony
The fountain of happiness flows as I revolt
Use my gift and fetch the drink for thyself
How sweet is the water I give

How bitter is my flesh to you ?
Did you eat my soul ?
Oh no! my soul is a brook of undying peace
Wallowing as daffodils adorned with loving gem

Exchanging hands of friendship beyond earthly rivals
Beyond your evilness and injustice
Your heart is oppressed by our thoughts
Wouldn't you drink our blood again

Wouldn't you **** us again?
Are you tired of your corrupt thoughts?
I thought you prefer to live in the dark
What makes love resides in your heart

Written by
Martin Ijir
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