Waya Leitna Narwah

A Gulf-accented praise of a woman's laugh. If only we could go, he says, God keep this perfume. She is bigger than the moon. She laughs, and she goes by, waving. She is shy, and she hides her feelings in her heart. Her laughter wipes away her worries and removes her sorrow. The one who tires her I do not know, and may God protect her from her enemy and from the one she calls friend. As they talk, she laughed and all the sadness melted. The laugh itself is the cure for deprivation. It is as beautiful as a cloud, and as warm as the winter's embrace. If only we could go.