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urdu poetry

dentro de minha mão eu prendo
o sol está acima
ao amante passionate
a mulher faltou-me muito, como você se chama me, chamada
nobility da morte outra vez
o mistério o mais escuro, o mais estranho
há um que esse i amou uma vez assim muito
material da lua
frequentemente eu penso da cidade bonita
eu vi com olhos abertos
agora quando meus bordos viverem

 



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