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urdu poetry

es war der Herbst des Jahres
hören Sie zum klingenden Meer
dieses ist der Song von Jugend
geben Sie mir Hunger
Freund, dessen Lächeln gekommen ist zu sein
truely
durch die ausgedehnten schmerzende Brust der Masse
Vögel gegen den Aprilwind
wenig Park, den ich durch führe
einmal dieser weiche Rasen
ich brenne keinen Duft

 



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