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urdu poetry

en dessous de cette tombe modeste un conqueror se trouve
hauts murs et énorme
bas! 'tis par nuit de gala
si je meurs, pensez seulement ceci à moi
quand la nuit dérive le long des rues de la ville
en septembre
le mystère le plus foncé et le plus étrange
l'aube était vert pomme
tressé et tissé
et pendant que nous marchions l'herbe a été faiblement remuée
tous apaisent le long du potomac

 



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