She stared at my face without blinking,
and smiled like a rising sun,
holding my hand– massaging it with hers.

I thought the roots had caught water,
and soon the leaves will flourish,
but they were shedding behind her smiles.

Screaming at her right– begging a man I couldn't see.
A dirty duvet that's the most painful–
a beloved taking a diverging road at your sight.

"Farewell, beloved, farewell...".
The stammering pierced through me–
and the man didn't open my sight to beg him.

The mat got wet and began floating.
Water for the mountain climb she took,
and her bird flew out of the flesh.

I bewail, grief has covered the blanket of exultation.
He didn't give a sight of the eggs or the chickens,
and up a mountain, they took a voyage.