The pain didn’t begin when the cinnamon jar broke,
The pain didn’t begin when the sky turned gray,
The pain didn’t begin when that first cold breath was gasped,
The pain began with reason,
Then it rained and robbed me of the cinnamon scent!
Vasily-Kandinsky, Blue (N393), 1927
4 comments:
Wow! very nice, both
very nice Roja jan. How are you? I miss you a lot some time.
سلام دوست من
داستان عصیان آدم نیست؟
وقتی فکر می کنی، پس هستی.بودن نیز همراه درد است.
همیشه باش.
Dear Lotus,
Thanks for your encouraging comment!
Faezeh Jan,
Thanks a lot, you are flattering me.
Masoud Jan,
As usual, your kind words makes me stronger.
Post a Comment