Or did the moon shrink from the earth's cold call?
Did one of its bells fall from its body?
Who had fixed on the pod
a ball like snow Or perhaps
that old woman spinning the charkha
taught me the game of fibers
Had come and reunited with his mother
Had given the earth a gift
Snatching the cotton seed from the gods
It's possible only after that
humanity thought
To envelop a delicate flower
Finding warmth in the body
To dress the moon in a cradle
In the deep darkness
To clothe the earth in silver
To embrace the sun as a wick
Then Your fibers scattered in the winds
Raising the status of a shroud
Making your delicate nature so harsh
O friend of the winds
How am I colorless like them all
Now I am emerging from myself
I am obsessed with catching you
So that now you grant me
Your nature whenever I want to become colored
Become light and fly Of his country
Now you give me
Sometimes Like me Seems like!
Thank you so much for reading. Have a great day 😊🙏 @vikbuddy
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