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urdu poetry

il y avait un temps en anciennes années
elle était beaucoup et beaucoup d'il y a une année
un stylo d'acier
un mille derrière
elle doit retourner, elle a dit
peu de parc que je traverse
pourquoi si triste mon bel?
je remplis cette tasse
le mouvement de votre corps est comme la musique
son visage est juste et lisse et bon
sous la barre du guerrier

 



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