Monday, 15 February 2010
Door to door, in the alley, in the market, in my city
The scent of a friend on my dry lips
The bitter taste of friendship, of love, in the dust of the day, yet
No story steps on my lips.
The verses of despair resonate everywhere.
Death wanders in the red desert.
Another season of sadness and loneliness.
*
In dust and smoke of a childhood, gone by, I remain!
**
Not in my hands is a leaf written with flaming love.
Not in my hand is the abundance of a happy day.
I will go to the far reaches of infinity.
Until you appear there, my love.
Damon
To Mostafa Sodairy
Label s:
Labels: Kooch Collection
