Autumn

Autumn, as it always, became cold and calm. The smell of childhood nostalgia made Shame a bitter stroke. It was as if I was waiting for new news from the field of love, and I understood this from my dismay. The strange sense of my childish attitude was gutting me from last night, and I scattered like a child's school of poetry and memoirs. A warm and delightful flavor with the cold breeze of autumn brought me a memorable mindset. I was patiently sitting between my poems and looking at the fish that stared at me and my offices from behind the window, I wondered what autumn passed and I felt unwittingly that I had lost my seasons . The moon smiled and kindly promised him to come. Suddenly, the sound of his gentle caressed caressed the ears ... He came from far away! I've been waiting for years. The aroma of her spring filled my calm moments with refreshing and fresh, feeling that along my lonely alleys my life remained under the frozen leaves of the unseen, underneath the sun he looked fresh. As he came, every day a new sensation sprouted in me, as I grew up and grow up in the presence of him in the presence of him. A strong and powerful husband of my belief, the shoots of my hope shook me so much that I began to forget oblivion from my poems. . I was euphoric about this hope and the awakening of the green, and I sat down to bed, the blooms of my feelings, though gossip, but the aroma of love and hope, sprouted from the herons. With a special elegance, the flowers wrapped my feelings in paper cloth, and I was again seen with the aroma of the generosity of his hands.

Days passed, and I was waiting for the sweet and golden opportunity, the restlessness of the existential meeting, which was a manifestation of kindness and forgiveness. I was waiting for a miracle to allow the fancied imagination to touch closely, the kindness of the eyes and the generosity of his hands.

The warm summer greens promise perfume. At the end of the season, it's just like the Bibi Naz Red House's apple. It was a feast at my glory. In her presence I was full of stamps, my hands and my lips cast a love. The existence of the cosmos was filled with a kind of perfume. An everlasting flower in Golestan, I was blessed with the fact that I liked to flutter it around it. Alas, at that time, I was still not afraid of the perfume, when the separation season came, he went, I stayed, and I stayed, and I stayed, and the dew that showed up on my cheeks.

But I smell her perfume when I smell far away, Johnny again.My autumn autumn, with its perfume, is memorable and full of poetic events. I love your poems, my most beautiful poetic event.

Farahnaz. harandi/sabur