On The Wall Poem by Uktamoy Khaldorova

***
On the wall there hangs
the picture of flowers.
The window I open the
Air inside is stuffy, hard.
The wind of autumn
would run into my room.
The flowers would shake,
the flowers are bored.
From their fragrance
my room feels dizzy.
The wind tears the leaves
of flowers blowing.
The buds peering
from under the crops,
Open their breast
to the wild feelings.
Stumbled is the flower yard,
lacking its flowers
The walls of the room
have their bodies bent.
The flavoring flowers
were blown by the wind.
The torn flowers scattered
on the floor, scent.