The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
Petals on the earth,
Pencil shavings on my desk.
Rain outside,
Weeping inside.
We are not alone in anything.
Nature has an equivalent.
The flowers know your sadness,
The mountains know your sadness.
There are many flowers,
But the butterfly sits on your sill.
There are many windows,
But the thrush sits at yours.
They want you to be happy.
But you don’t.
Owls of sadness hoot from the branches of our heart.
Snakes bite the soul.
The soul cannot bleed or get hurt.
But it does split
For some time.
Petals on the earth,
Pencil shavings on my desk.
Rain outside,
Weeping inside
Ever since I can remember.
Comments
Post a Comment