Where I am Forgotten
Some thing is lost in my soul.
Something French something more divine than wine.
Something more refined than fine.
Something so seemingly insignificant
Lost in an allies of a feeling, a trace of touch
Something in the soil of France that "Sadegh Hedayt" kissed
Something like a spark, a French poetry in the dry hays of souls
The whisper of Eluard in
the ear of air
The caresses of his words
on the skin of my beauty
Something like "Jean Valjean" in the dungeon
Something that I would never forget
because it is me
Where I am forgotten
Something French something more divine than wine.
Something more refined than fine.
Something so seemingly insignificant
Lost in an allies of a feeling, a trace of touch
Something in the soil of France that "Sadegh Hedayt" kissed
Something like a spark, a French poetry in the dry hays of souls
The whisper of Eluard in
the ear of air
The caresses of his words
on the skin of my beauty
Something like "Jean Valjean" in the dungeon
Something that I would never forget
because it is me
Where I am forgotten
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