On a closed table, a boy is sitting Salvated in the closed fingers Our small -selling flower, at night, his ulceration All his dreams of thieves have been If he or she has been hungry, he has been hungry! Sir! Flower! My first spring! Flower! Sir! Flower! My last spring! Flower! A Bedroom s sleeping, but an unjust question: "O God! O God! Why cant this be a nun? s my sleeping place, be on the roof of the sky? Sir! Flower! My first spring! Flower! Sir! Flower! My last spring!
Subject to the glass of glass, the boy is not waking up as if his whole life has been in his sleep. Baron On Eid Eid, Pasabon This street The eyes of the alley kids but still under the rain When can I wake up to sand people of this street
I am a flower! Sir! Flower! My first spring! Flower! Sir! Flower! My last spring! Flower!
