Jasmine pain

And here I remember, oh pain of jasmine, staring until it seems as if a passion wounded the melody and stammered in her eyes the sparkle.. I call out.. as if a poet extended a sweet coma in its reach and when the morning poured speech upon itself, it drowned.. and I was shy to wake up, how can I do.. and life is about to fade and my mind has not yet settled on a harbor in the road, I hasten to prostrate out of fear of the fire but another time I prostrated on a storm of fire.