Basir Seerat's PhotoBlog

The Tulip Bed The May sun-whom all things imitate- that glues small leaves to the wooden trees shone from the sky through bluegauze clouds upon the ground.…

Its small gift as especial just for you, to read it what I am looking , to see what I look around, to feel what to feel and to seek what I want to… as you know…

Little Fly, Thy summer's play My thoughtless hand Has brushed away. Am not I A fly like thee? Or art not thou A man like me? For I dance And drink, and sing,…
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