Camellia [Archives:2007/1021/Community]

Fuad Noman
[email protected]
In the early summer

And the late spring,

With the full shining sun

So fast toward her,

The river cheerfully runs.

Many times,

His long current's voice

Repeated,

“Come over here, Camellia.”

She tries to come closer,

But she feels shy.

When he smiles,

Before her whirls,

She comes back

With a longing smile,

Saying,

“What diligent water you are!”

He declares, “I know.”

“What does your hustle and bustle require?”

Camellia avows

For my heart's demand

To be grown like an Alba rose

As she says, “Forget-me-Not.”

If you need to know

Where I walk and go,

She always confirms,

To the spring's heart.

No doubt,

This world can't be

My private right,

Only when he is still,

My love's pro.

In the day

When I meet Mars' Love,

He loves to…

But I have a tiny clue,

How jealous the bush lily is?

She tries

To plant amounts of “lycorine”

To poison my licorice

To make my life's path

Full of bitterness.

Camellia rose

Always calms my soul.

The powerful spores she holds

With her doleful pistil

Would flower.

The summer burrows its snout

To not shower.

It is a cruel summer.

The summer's charm can't fetch

Her dewdrops to rain, to soar

Or to pass clouds lower.

Only she can be brought

By my warm clout

And cool power.
——
[archive-e:1021-v:14-y:2007-d:2007-02-01-p:community]