Sad Evening
'll Come with the smell of spikes;
When the north Star ignites
The sad evening of "Horan".
The horizon sings a songs.
I do not know, is it a trick of wind or
a bird singing above the fields?
And perhaps what I think
it is a dew pearls,
not but a tears of Swallow,
pecking love and seeds from
sleepers on breast of virgin "Horan".
Oh sad evening "Horan"
How eager to hold to my chest
the warmth tales of jasmine!
Copyright © Fatima Nusairat | Year Posted 2014
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