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urdu poetry

três dias eu ouvi-os afligir-se quando eu coloco absolutamente
f4-lo vêem sempre um jacaré
não há nenhum escape pelo rio
travails da terra
musing, entre o por do sol e a obscuridade
a agonia de ter demasiado poder
eu sou velho e cego
de encontro à flama verde da hawthorn-árvore
eu quero saber às vezes se for realmente verdadeiro
o céu

 



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