I know this Rose Bonica
Is the Maddest color of the whites
My eyes not mistaking
Till the noon of this veranda is ruined
The way
The wind
Is arm to arm with me!
Pick a bouquet of the whites
You See
I am going blind of the scent.
Give your youth
To my youth.
from slected poems:
IN FAVOR OF DREAMS
Tapesh,1388/2009
Tr.F.S.
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