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urdu poetry

questa ciotola d'argento antica di mine
quando, pieno di amore caldo e desideroso
il pietoso piccolo, portato, facce ridere
quando ero si č rotto a Londra
su e giů va
siete bei e sbiaditi
come candela bianca
non brucio incenso
la mia madre twines me rose bagnate con rugiada
un'ombra grigia sottile sul bordo di pensiero
fiori dei bambini
stella-polvere e luce vaporous
tengo il vostro cuore

 



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