They want me to tell enchanting poems, but they don’t know that the one who

In the pain of a broken bone, the tongue that opens the bud. آن بگویم

It dries on the branch. They want me to speak of it in my poems.

I will tell you about the train and the lost lovers, of the broken-hearted lovers who…

They are sitting on a bench at the station; they want them with their eyes.

I accept that I have fallen behind in this society, my old age is catching up with me.

I fall and let them deny me. Who am I?

I am not the one who is left behind from the metro every morning and…

Is it crowded from all sides in the bus? Squeezed and pushed?

The wrinkles of its essence give the taste of anise and old sorrows.

I pour myself into a disposable cup; my only companions are my trains.

My beautiful and sad love is far away, the power of this enchanting potion. این نبود

If I were to kill myself that day, it wouldn’t be for this reason alone.

It was a simple trick! This city has suddenly become organized. خالی وجود نداشت

The trains arrived on time and there was no empty seat on the bus.

I got my share.