I'm in Central London.
What is this Central Asian hospitality?
A friend invites me,
With tea, sweet delicacy,
Conversation running,
Clear as the Kyrgyz rivers.
A friend invites me,
With a chase, a climb,
Autumn leaves blazing,
Bright as the red Alay valleys.
A friend invites me,
To thoughts where wills diverge.
Contemplative pauses,
Lead to the Beshariq canopy.
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