It’s been long
In this chaotic bazaar
Hearts are plowed deep
And the green stalks of the rice field
Are hung
Before they ever scent the flowers
There is a pain
In this land
Where love is tilled
By the walls
And the sweet dream of the cradle
Is made restless
By the sickle of fate
Rest now
With the green waves of the barley field
Rest, my little daughter
This time
The sorrow in your young voice
Will, without a doubt
Awaken the heavy silence of the forest
Arsalan - Tehran
June 6, 2020
هیچ نظری موجود نیست:
ارسال یک نظر