Seasons Remain Not The Same
The birds have awoken,
So discard the intension
To trap them with no water
And with no grain. They too need
Some crimson evenings of freedom;
They are being invited
By the washed clear dawns,
And by the spring-tide.
They remember too the soil
Of unpaved mud-plastered yards,
They like to dream about fragrant roses,
And they bear in minds
References of the books.
The birds have awoken …
Their nests in the trees sobbingly wail,
They make them perturbed,
Their dreams are frailer
Than the wings of butterflies
That smolder in the burning coals.
They all are being brought up in the flames,
But it is the time of their wakefulness
That this red wind-storm is just like
The scattering wall of sand.
The chains of separation
Do not always jingle on the feet
Nor the inscription of union
Always does glow in the eyes,
Nor airs always fragrance contain,
Nor seasons always the same remain.
poem by Muhammad Shanazar
Added by Poetry Lover
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