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urdu poetry

ho vinto la corsa
uccelli contro il vento di aprile
osservare di lŕ
sto cantando voi
nella sfera
lascilo essere triste
sotto la mia finestra in una via della cittŕ
mi sono levato in piedi
il mio figlio č guasto e sono ciechi andanti
tramite il seno facente male della vasta terra
amo le vecchie disposizioni melodious
sotto la luna della raccolta
mescolisi

 



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