Sibbald
The sound of words is that shower falls
Sweeting apple is the hands of the sky
Dahuk's song in grass in cold water
There are gardens in it, there are eternal scent
Adolescents of white wings, where they lives
The city of moon, playing on the plan of dreams
the boat of Hassan floating in Shanir Haur
Through the ropes of flute over childhood.
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STOPThe poem really caught my mind.
ha ha I am proud
WOW beautiful post.
really good poem.
Very nice post