My hand has the time to write the shape of your name , when I read my face, your laughter decreases, the perfume of the jasmine that you have bought a hundred gardens, the full moon at the table, my crying, how
beautiful and dear you are, like a note on the lips of the guitar, like the thought of a new poem, the guess of a flower behind the wall
, O you are the heart of the tune , O melody, you are the most audible, I am full of the air of homesickness, in the air of the land of Zamharir, Narfiqan , sunny dream. He sees our migration in the middle of the water , an unmanned boat, La La La La...
Tying a cocoon in your heart was the work of becoming a butterfly , the round of the flame, the height of the pure dance, the pure dance of man and woman, with you, you should embrace the fragrance of the flowers like the dew, the bitterness filled the distances, the honey beehive, how beautiful and dear you are like a guitar lip note, like the thought of a new poem , guessing a flower behind the wall.
