Illusionary World

There are no mirrors in the mirrors

Like the horror of an empty eye

At all times, the world was in turmoil.

Ever since your attention has been focused - there is still time.

If you have to do it, then openly deny it.

If the matter remains incomplete, then there is regret.

Let the city be honored by doing something like this

Everything becomes dust, honor remains

Every building of the heart collapses,

In the guise of desire, there is probably luck.

The shadows tremble in the streets of the cities

People used to live where terror is now

The seasons carry ascent.

Do we have nightmares?

It seems like a festival of memories.

Often his grief is accompanied by warming companionship.

Color writing on a flower plate

There is such a glorious reputation on the tablet of speech.