In winter the trees shed leaves, in spring flowers bloom
There’s a lots of sweet memory, Follies were shelved
Addition do not harmonize, its two plus two is three.
I remember I’m aging, that’s why its birthday.
In the midnight, I hear invitation of bygone days
Memory-birds always remind me about the past
The roof breaks apart, the walls got brittle
Thousand dreams do not create embroidered quilt
When I press the switch the room is flooded with love
I look into the wall at the framed portrait of myself
I don’t have glass on my open eyes, my sight is blurred
With all these love of birthday flickered into.
© Shahabuddin Nagari