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written by: Anahit Arustamyan



The swan put my face on its white gown.
The swan has wings so I don't mind being spellbound.
Aren't you, my love, a faraway cloud?
I know, you walk alone in your town.
You catch the horizon for my heart's sound.
O, wait! My voice can be quiet and loud.
You walk alone along the streets with your umbrella, large and brown.
You wish you reached my shoulders through my hair's cascade down.
That's why you give your face to a curly cloud.
O, my love, you don't mind being spellbound.
The cloud meets the swan when the moon looks round.
Wait! The swan will fly to your town.
Time invents its stories for both you and the crowd.

Anahit Arustamyan

Anahit Arustamyan

I was born in Yerevan, Armenia, 1963. After graduating the university I published some of my earlypoems in the local anthology called ''Garun'' translated into English ''Spring''. My later works were published in different international anthologies and online magazines. I authored paperback books entitled My Intoxicated Ink, The Queen Of Metaphors and e-books entitled My Wandering Muse, My Lyrical Tongue and The Phantom's Dolphin. My books are in English and available on Amazon and Lulu.
Anahit Arustamyan

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