Poetry about father

Poetry about the father of Khayyam

I walked over the pottery

From the soil of this, every art dance

I saw that if you did not see it anyway

My dad's soil is on the floor of every pottery

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Poetry about father from Hafez

My father, Razav Ridvan, sold two wheat

Why should not I take the property of the world into joy?

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Poetry about father from Rumi

My father, my father, is the principle and the chapter I love

It's a love for yourself, not a relative

Poetry about father from Sohrab Sepehri

My father drove two swings back behind two snow

My dad is sleeping in the moonlight behind

My father is dead behind the times

My father was blue when he was a man

My mother jumped unaware that she was sleeping. My sister was beautiful

My father, when the men of the constabulary were all the poets

The grocer asked me: How many melons do you want?

I asked him: How sweet are you?

My father painted

Tar made the tar too

There was a good line

Our garden was on the side of the shadow of knowledge

Our gardens are tied to the sensation and plant

Our garden was the point of view of the cage and the mirror

Our gardens were perhaps arched from the green circle of bliss

The fruit of Allah, I would dine for that day

I would drink water without philosophy

I do not know

As long as it was Turkish, the hand of the fountain was begged

She read her chin to hear the sound

Sometimes she lays her face down the window

The craziness would come hand in the neck

Thought played

Life was like a rainy day, a sycamore

Life at that time was a queue of light and dolls

It was an arm of freedom

Life was at that time the music pool ...