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 ...