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urdu poetry

sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
basso! 'tis un la notte di gala
al lover appassionato
ma alas, sogni giusti
ciò è la canzone della gioventù
morbidamente piangendo
le ombre delle navi
rompiamo il vetro di cui vino sacred
conosce un rilascio poco costoso
il bambino che ha gettato via il foglio dopo il foglio
diami la fame
quando la notte va alla deriva lungo le vie della cittĂ 

 



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