Persian Carpet


You have to come to my Persian home
You have to sit day and night
On the flowers of my carpet
To know how I see the world
To know with so many flowers
On which I sleep and eat and write
Which words get to my mind?
To know which thorns prickle me?
Are there any roses without thorns?
I sit among roses
I feel the thorns pierce me
Sometimes I moan
But mostly I shrug it off
I don't blemish the world beauty

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