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urdu poetry

dans ma main je me tiens
le soleil est vers le haut
à l'amoureux passionné
la femme a beaucoup manqué, comment vous appelez à moi, appel à moi
la noblesse de la mort encore
le mystère le plus foncé et le plus étrange
il y a d'un que ce I par le passé a aimé tellement
substance de la lune
souvent je pense à la belle ville
j'ai vu avec les yeux ouverts
maintenant tandis que mes lèvres vivent

 



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