The falcon of the heaven

Peace for

Who owns the heart which kidnapped my dream.

And who owns the voice which draw the smile on my lip.

And who stole the sleep from my deep eye.

And who are freebooting the deep warmth from my life.

And regards to

Looking which trembled my body.

And whispers which put down my ideas.

And laughing which tiers my limbs.

In your meeting

In your meeting my sweetie.

I went out from torpor which froze my limb.

And I felt words which made my hand dance.

And I surrounded patiently which dried my lip.

And I felt with something which pigment my letter.

And I caught colour which covered my brush.

And I stool confused which painted my picture.

And I knew the road which lined my way.

Who are beautiful in fancy.

Who are beautiful in fancy.

You shot me by yours arrow.


Burned my soul.

And changed my life.

And reversed my situation.

And wet my tongue.

And smoothed my letter.

And opened my eyelid.

So, I announced

I drank fancy.

And I imagined the good times.

And I deleted the bad times.

And sang, when I woke up.

And I became,

Running with winds.

Staying awake with barking.

Sleeping with sunrise.

I wrote,

And I am writing by exclamation pen.

Researching about something comfortable.

So I found your specious heart.

Which is pulsing to me by advices.

My beloved you are,

Cooled down myself.

And fired my adoration.

And resisted my situation.

And patient was my fancy.

And you,

Confused myself.

Woke up my feeling.

And mixed my thinking.

And you are still my goal.

I spent nights

Imagined your love.

And carried your adore.

And your fancy I found lovelier.

And wrote to your eyes.

By pen,

Pen spontaneously wrote words.

Without cessation.

To say:

Am not aero

Or without root.

And I will not be a duplication.

And I will stay single.


Because I likes flower.

Her smell like jasmine.

And her form, pleased those who are looking.

And her created, enviable the envious.

And her prestige, arose those who are sitting.

When she is coming, amazing the dreamers.

And when she is talking, hurting the lonely.

Because that.

And I am a falcon of victories.

Between angry eagles.

Under the roof of jailers.

Behind the unjust bars.


Became like madmen.

I suffered from whining.

In each minute buzzing.

I remember your affectionate heart.