Dolls Of Clay

A Akhtar Jawad
0 Altın Yaprak
I don't like a mirror anymore, I don't want to see ugliness, and do you know who I don't want to see, who is that ugly man? Alas! It's me! But still I see my beautiful face, when I see you playing, in a garden, running on the pavements, between zigzag rows of colorful flowers, trying to catch rainbow butterflies, annoyed of your failures to catch one, when I see you turning your face towards a sweet and cute baby girl, in a lovely and colorful dressing, realizing that she is the butterfly for you, when you take her hand in your hand, and the two together when move towards the pond of the garden, on way when you purchase a packet of popcorn, waves of your laughter when join the waves of quakes coming from the pond, I listen to the beats of life that are produced by merging of two waves, and when you start feeding the ducks, and a few over smart and fearless, when come out from the safe waters, for an adventure on the bank, I smile on this dance of life, I thank nature who is training you for a lovely and beautiful life. May you be blessed by beauty and charms of life! Sweet child! Could you remain beautiful always! Could you never hate mirror in your life to come! I love your feelings, friendship at this innocent age, is really amazing. I wish and I dream, this lovely and innocent friendship, may one day grow in a lasting love, may your love develop in a mortal union! An union, a moment of beauty in that, even God forbids Him to break into pieces, the too fragile dolls of clay!

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