In an alley where there is no passerby singing except you , in a notebook where there is no poetry or poetry except you, there is a wind roaming in the alley, if the past is silence in my office, a poem if it is written by a night wanderer like a bat, I was blind and dumb, I had not seen Milad, I was about to deteriorate, the sun shone again in my mind, in my body instead of my blood, poetry and song boiled, you were your poet, you were a friend, you spoke and I wrote Your hand was my guide, not the line of my destiny , my birth was from you, I was not before you, I was not lost in me, a poem if I sang from you, the sun shone again in my mind, in my body instead of my blood, poetry and songs boiled in my body, now that I am forgotten, I am from head to toe, I am free from belonging, drunk, drunk, have you opened the door to this, always in need, has the time come for me to fly to the ascension from you? The sun shone again in my mind, poetry and songs boiled in my body instead of my blood, the sun shone again in my mind, poetry and songs boiled in my body instead of my blood.
