There is no sunset..
There is no rain..
I don't even remember..
why?
what happened to the hands full of apples?
why there is no one around no longer
to come our way
and speak few words of wisdom
to you and me?
where the acacias have gone to?
don't honk please..
the traffic will pass us by
and there is no end..
Translated upon a Farsi version of a poem by Amir Rahimi Ferdosinezhad
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