Dreams

Leaving the manuscript near, I motionless by the gray lamp. The dew was falling slowly; Ekakitam Ke Pathi Nami from the branch of Neem When it flies away in the fog, - away from the fog, in the fog. Do you understand when the wind of your fan extinguishes the lamp? In the dark, he slowly finds the match; What can you say when you see the face of Jbalib Alae? Whose face? Back of Amalki branch One day he saw a blue moon curved like a horn; I saw this gray manuscript one day, aha, the gray face of this world.

When all the stories of the world come to an end one day, People will no longer be Rabb, Rabb is just a human dream then - that face and I Rabb inside that dream.