A WOMAN READS A BOOK…

(Thoughts upon gazing at a portrait)

Leaning against a majestic tree,

A woman reads, lost in reverie.

Ashamed of a world of deceit and disgrace,

She escapes—seeking words’ embrace…

A woman reads, her voice so light,

Spreading love, her soul shines bright.

Like the world’s most beautiful sound—

Beethoven watches from afar, spellbound…

Mozart, entranced by her silent “notes,”

Her fingers “play” as the pages float.

Delicate echoes cradle the air,

Gifted through colors, vibrant and rare…

Blue turns green, azure deepens bright,

Pinks grow pale, crimson burns to bordeaux.

Yellows like amber, in shifting light,

Colors intensify as moments flow…

Emotions surge, metaphors rise,

Thoughts spark like spring’s electric skies.

The sun bows gently, offering its beams,

Waves roll softly over boundless dreams…

The deserts hush, the storms subside,

Day and Night sign their silent “treaties.”

Nowruz gathers melodies inside,

To hear her rhythm’s wondrous beauties…

Fairies hover in reverence near,

To seal this moment, rare and divine.

The finest paintings now appear—

Van Gogh is in awe, Dali lost in time! …

A quiet corner of the world.

Beneath a tree,

A woman immerses in wisdom’s sea.

Cradling grace in her tender sight,

She buries herself in words so bright…

The stars, the oceans, listen in peace,

The shores bear witness to wisdom’s feast.

A woman reads, dusting the past,

Yet… only the ignorant fail to grasp.

A woman reads.