Thursday, 7 March 2013

Butterfly(1999)

It flies over the flowers,
And sits down on them,
It sucks their nectar,
And closes its wings,
Flies away on its way,
Sometimes folding,
Sometimes opening,
Its beautiful wings,
When I try to catch it,
It flies so swiftly,
Revolves around my eyes,
As if challenging,
I forget it all and stare,
And I fail to catch it,
I ask the god,
Why I don’t have that gift?
I wish I could be,
Colorful like butterfly,
Living in the gardens,
In the air I could fly.

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