Look poetry

In the eyes of the hundreds of the world of sonnets.

The beginning of love is the end of every invisible.

Every breath, drunken song and restlessness,

Because the smell of mud, in the air of the heart.

Nine months to your jam, not the sun,

That you are the secret of creation and the secret of awakening.

Hand in your hand, we see the infinite,

In every soul, your role in the life of the signs.

The heart in the air of your connection always burnt,

Blacking like a tulip full of cute and chanting.

Until I reached your visit, the light came and turned,

At night, the day was illuminated in my heart.

In the mirror of the right, I was the soil

By connecting you every moment, I was out of myself.

The one who did not see the jamal you never,

He does not know what love is and where the heart was flying.

#behnammohtarami#