Tuesday, April 30, 2019

Anahit Arustamyan writes


I have read fifty-five pages of my life's book so fast.

O I have never rushed.
That little girl has already flown like a butterfly.
Hey, fifty-five pages, where are you now?
Where have you gone?
You were my ages, you are dead sparrows alive in my mind.
The fifty-sixth page is unwritten yet with the ink of time.
O I am surprised.
How quickly I looked through the stories invented by life.
Hey, little girl, your hair was dark.
I know you played hide and seek with time.
How many clouds have silvered your hair so far?
I am fifty-five.
I still blink my eyes full of the pictures of my past.
That little girl is no longer me blinking her bright eyes.
That little girl turned to a photo of mine.
I can't recognize myself in it but I smile.
How quickly I have read these pages, I am still surprised.

Related image
Book of Life -- Yulia Litvinova

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