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urdu poetry

uma névoa estava dirigindo para baixo
mulher boa
levantado dos mortos
este é o navio da pérola
fora da janela um mar de árvores verdes
eu sou cansado de ser amargo e cansado de ser sábio
desde que, se você estiver por meu lado hoje
se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
eu não posso sempre sentir seu greatness
eu encho este copo

 



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