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urdu poetry

un mot de vol d'ici et lŕ
mon fils est mort et je suis aveugle allant
élever, comme vent a soufflé
nous n'étions pas beaucoup
quand j'étais a enfoncé ŕ Londres
qui appellera le vent
ce qui était lui les moteurs dits
pharaoh, roi de la terre de l'Egypte

 



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