...

It’s a great world.
The time you feel sad
Something might distract you
The time you feel down
Someone might awake you

Someone dies
But I can’t get up
For myself
And for the deepest pain
Which let me live without your voice.

Not more direct than this
I open all the roads
To the hill
Which spread a desert
With a dry wind
I’m writing and writing and writing
To the end of the world
Where meets the sorrow of abundance
With a fade portrait on the loneliest sand
In a stylish dance.

تولد

:با خنده گفت

.وسوسه ی کوچه را گم می کنی

سکوت

...مرگ

عشق

.و گم شدم

...

It’s a glass
Nobody asks how clean it was
And all you can see from the other side
Is a pen
And a shaking line
Crossing out my face.

...

The oldest word I learned
Is what you conferred on my hands
Not fading by the time.
Don’t …!
It’s there.

...

It’s not a shadow
Burning in a sunny day.
It’s me
Smudged on the soil
Waiting for the night
To disappear.

...

هر روز
ناگفته ها یم سر می رود و
تنها می مانم
مثل پرنده ی وحشی منجمد

در نیمه های زمستان

.دور از دست های گرم تو