Khordad

There is always a hot damp in the weather at the end of the May, ,it is no difference where I am , Tehran, Leoben, Athen or even in London.
And it is a kind of pleasant bringing all sweet memories from the past with it, the smell of Roses in our garden, a bright and sunny classroom with unclear glasses,and the voice of the laughs of school girls who try in spite of long,dark and ugly scarves to make themselves beautiful and disobey school rules with a hidden pink lipstick.
There is an image of dark green big leaves of an old tree which looks through the window inside the classroom and a black board which on it's surface is written by a piece of chalk: " where is the home of friend?"