Memory of a forgotten city
A rusty lamp, half fill with kerosene, sits at one corner
of my room, its flame stirs on the wooden wall.
The moon comes in through half open window of my room,
Its light mix with the only orange light from the lamp.
An unclear sound of a song comes from my old radio, inside
a black leather case that hangs on a rusty nail behind the door.
As the night progresses, the streets become quiet, the stray dogs come out noisily
As if to attack a thief that is about to break into the house across the street.
The light summer wind stirrs amidst the trees of the garden,
there comes through the open window the rich odor of the roses,
It smells fills my room.
The cool night wind that blew brings back many memories
of bygone times of my forgotten city.