Cold Fire

Cold Fire
Poetry and letters
Cucumber drink water right now
My life is not a bad profession. flower names I have a piece of bread, flower names a bit of intelligence, needles talent. I have a mother, better than leaf. Friends, better than running water. And a God who is near: through the night smells, its foot tall pine. The awareness of water on the plant. I am Muslim. I have a direction rose. Prayer Springs, Nuts light. flower names My prayer Plains. I'll take ablution with the heartbeat window. In my prayer to the moon, is the spectrum. Rock is visible behind my prayer: flower names all particles have crystallized my prayer. I say my prayers when I read that Azansh the wind, the wind, the minaret served. I continued my prayer "Tkbyrh Al Ahram" Birds sing, P. "tall stature" wave. I Kaaba mouth water, I Kaaba is the birth. I like the Kaaba breeze, the garden, the garden goes from city to city. "Black stone" My garden is clear. Profession. Painting is my profession: sometimes a cage to make the color, you can sell a poppy song in which a prisoner is made fresh in your own heart. Well, I imagined, I know my screen is dead. I know, I painted a fish pond. I saw things on earth: Dim childhood, the Bo month. I never in a cage in the throws of death his. Ladder that went up to the roof of the kingdom of love. My wife saw the light in a mortar and syphilis. Pm at their table bread, vegetables, and avoiding dew, a hot bowl of his affection. I saw a beggar, went to the singing lark and scavenge wanted flower names to take a melon shell prayers. War "Nazi" is a cute shoot. Parrot war and eloquence together. The forehead with a cold October. Tile mosque attack prostration. Wind Attack Ascension soap bubbles. License Division's attack on "Pest". Dragonfly attacked flower names the worker queue "plumbing". Black regiments attacked flower names by Ney to lead letters. Terms attack his jaw. Conquered a century by a poem. Conquering a garden by a starling. I conquered one lane to two.
Human and in the light, and saw the man in the dark. Profession, but not my city of Kashan. My town is gone. I'm impatient, I have a fever the other night at my house. I called home to tell my closest wet grass. I hear your voice in the garden of the soul. And the sound of night when the leaves fall. And voice, cough clear of the trees, sneezing water from penetrating into the stone, the roof of Spring Swallows jabber. Sound and smooth opening and closing of the window itself. And the sound is clean, peel the ambiguous flower names love, condensing the gusto jumping to avoid cracking flower names in the wing and soul. I wish to hear the sound of footsteps and voices, the legal blood vessels, heart doves Dawn Wells, Thursday night heart palpitations, Clove flow in mind, hinny cleared away the truth. I hear the sound of the wind and the sound of shoes on the streets passionate faith. And the sound of rain on the lid of love, sad music of puberty, the voice Anarstan person. The sound of shattering glass and joy at night, beautiful paper shredder, fill and empty the bowl nostalgia of the wind. I started off close. Take the pulse of the flowers. I'm familiar flower names with the fate of the water, the green habit of trees. My Soul is the new Current objects. My Soul least a year. Sometimes the joy of my soul, he is coughing. My soul is unemployed drops of rain, the cracks of bricks, counts. Sometimes my soul, like a stone in the path of truth. I did not see the enemy fir together. I see Bidi, sells his shadow to the ground. Free elm branches to crow. Where leaf is my passion blooming. The opium poppy, washed me of Ceylon. Wings like to know the weight of sunrise. Like a pot, I listened to the music grow. I like the basket of fruits reaching fever. I'm such a boring bar on the border. Like a sea of worried flower names about the long stretch on forever. To ask for the sun, so you want to link, to try and reproduce. I am pleased to apple and smelling a chamomile flower names plant. I have a mirror, a Clean on my contentment. I would not laugh if the balloon bursts. And do not laugh if a philosophy halves the moon. Quail's my voice, you know, the color of the bustard's belly, the effect of the antelope. flower names Rhubarb good to know where you're going, starlings Who Comes, Who Sings Quebec, it dies when the moon is sleeping in the desert, dying in a shoot pleasures of desire and raspberries, the teeth arms. Life drawing is welcome. flower names Life is filled with expanded wings and death, is the springboard of love. Life is something, remember you and me used to go to the edge of the ledge. Life is manually attraction picks. Life in black fig fruit, dry mouth, which in the summer. flower names Life, the Tree of the eyes of insects. Moth live in darkness. Life is a strange feeling that a migrating bird. Life is a train whistle blows in the dream bridge. Life is a garden of glass blocks visiting aircraft. flower names The rocket going into space, touch alone, "month", think smelling flower names flowers on another planet. flower names Life is washing a dish. I do not know why they say the horse is a noble animal, beautiful dove. And why not a vulture in a cage nobody. What does a low red clover flowers of tulips. The eyes should be washed to be seen. Words should be washed. Words should flower names be, the word must be the rain. Umbrellas should be closed. The rain should go. Tags: Sohrab Sepehri
Persian date Bahman 1391
Persian date Mordad 1390
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