A selection of text and beautiful notes about the father’s house, old and nostalgic for the profile and caption!
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Memories of father’s house I put it in my heart
I put all that love and loyalty in my heart
The alley came to the hallway with stairs
with a courtyard with a stone floor
Remember that dead end alley
Everyone in that house is a mother
The memory of that house is a wooden door
The men of that house are all good people
******
I was left without you and this house and this fate
Without you, I don’t know what to say and what to write…
******
Sadness subsides there
The sun is brighter than anywhere else
Its winter snows have the warmth of summer beach sand
Its walls are high and strong
As long as the light is on, the table is warm
The road is smooth
Its gates are open
The forest is green
And the trees are fruitful
It is definitely a piece of heaven there
I say father’s house…
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I remember the memories of my father’s house
I put all that kindness in my heart
I long for the day when I am not in my father’s house
I miss the laughter
I remembered the days that I have to go
I will pack my bag, I will leave this house with you
This time my yard gets a different color
The smell of geraniums is taken by roses
I am writing from my father’s house
I cry
Azizi takes my hand
He kisses my cheeks
He also cries
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The text about the garden of the father’s house
Indeed, the garden of my father’s yard
It is full of pebbles
That there is no place for my longings
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The old people understood well what they want from life
the yard
pond
the sky
A few trees according to the time and season
Pick the fruits and sit by the pond to enjoy it
So simple and beautiful…
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Where is the text about the father’s house?
Father’s house is there
They love you always and unconditionally
Father’s house is there no matter how late or late you go
They stay with you without question or complaint
In your father’s house, you are always young and beautiful and unique
Father’s house is the safest and most comfortable place in the world
Even if your parents are very old or not. . .
******
I like those old houses with courtyards
He wants a garden and a pond.
******
The houses are old
It was not modern
But as long as you want
It was hot
It was clean
had love
And it was kindness
******
let me come back
where
I left my heart
go my heart
I will take it from my mother’s Marshall sewing wheel
The sun is shining
let me come back
Take my shadow from the side of my father’s head
My hand is left next to my mother’s basil garden
Let me go back and take the scent of life from that heartwarming garden. Let me go back
The place where I left my heart
the same place
My father used to say that a girl doesn’t mean to laugh so much
Let me go back and take the last loud laughs of my life
Let me go back where I left my heart to pick up my heart
******
The text of the old house
In the old days, there was light, there was love, there was color, there was life…
There was peace and intimacy between people, it was the highest level of friendship and knowledge…
The old times that my generation did not see and did not live
But he read a lot and understood and felt in the stories and books and the words of the elders.
Foot by foot album of photos and notebooks of writings and memories of the old people…
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That dirt street
That old house with a brick wall
That little garden
That window that had a curtain with blue flowers
Lost in the big city.
maybe
that strange man
The man who had a sad song on his lips
He took the memory of the night with him.
Saeed Samaninia
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Dad’s house
It is the place where no one can take the key from you
The same place whether you come at 3 in the morning or 3 in the evening
They will be happy to see you
Its door is open for you 24 hours a day
The same place when they say they miss you,
It means they really miss you
The same place where you go to the fridge and eat whatever you want
The same place where even if
They will bring you the rarest food cravings
The same place where everyone fights you
And they grumble so that you eat your food until the end
The same place where flowers and plants grow in a strange way
The sugars are sweeter there
Its salts are more salty
Its oranges taste like oranges
Its food is more delicious
Meatballs and cutlets do not go there
Even lentil rice with its ridiculous appearance tastes like heaven
There, the pillows are softer and the blankets are warmer
There, sleep clings to the depths of one’s soul
It is full of security and peace
He has mom and dad there. . .
******
Whatever we shake the house
Memories
Empty of memories
They do not fall out
How could we?
Can we last all these years?
in a world
That is nothing
It did not last
The ones we said “I will die without you”
are dead
And what a thick-skinned rhinoceros
Our hearts!
******
The vine of the father’s house,
Wrapped here and there green
Varicose veins in my legs…
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Poetry and text of the old house
Grandma’s old house is our weekend refuge.
From the time you ring the doorbell, until the flowers kiss you goodbye,
You don’t remember your boredom and troubles.
Its table is one color and its walls smell of moisture.
His yard is always full of flowers and shrubs.
It has a small pond where you can launch your carefree boat on it and watch the slow movement of the water.
Grandma’s old house is the place where you get angry.
No matter how much you burn, they will give you the right.
Your plate is not empty, it is filled.
That’s where for a few hours,
You can be yourself and see the sky bluer…
Fatima Nazim
******
Nowhere can be a father’s house
A place that smells like your childhood
You enter through its faded old door,
You hear the sound of laughter and your childhood games
You close your eyes and come to life in your memories
You hear a child’s voice
It hides in the corners of the yard and behind the trees.
He laughs and you enjoy his laugh like your childhood
Is it possible to be in such a place and not be happy?
Can you smell the different aroma of your mother’s food?
And are you not happy?
Can you sit next to your mother?
Drink a few glasses of “mandatory” tea
And don’t you feel happy?
The best place in the world is your childhood home
He breathes among the flowers of his garden
They will build the best palace in the world for you
Nowhere will be your father’s house…
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