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urdu poetry

sceso all'alba dalle colline windless
quando i mare-venti hanno perforato i nostri solitudes
cammino giù i percorsi del giardino
perchè sono le cose che non hanno morte
come come le stelle è questo il bianco, facce nameless
contro la fiamma verde dell'cratego-albero
aumentato dai morti
ho avuto un sogno e mi sono svegliato con esso

 



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