What I perceive is silence,
As if I breathe gently in silence,
Last fifteen days are like objects of tracing love,
Like sleeping baby in front of mother,
And I stand in vast blue seconds in the sky,
It is not false; the body of silence is sinking like swallowing pain.
Many days I try to write something,
Many times I feel something has disappeared
Love is invisible, and I am also invisible,
The thread of love that creates our existence, is
Like an object that is closed in wind parlance,
Wherein I only move and talk and work as machine.
To this feeling of silence,
I live like an object which can only give work schedule,
I do not breathing in sound of this silence,
And if you can give me an essence of awakening dream in love,
My words then discover my life in love of need and homely visits,
To the world wherein we live like angels with roses of waking love.