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urdu poetry

alle innen und alle ohne mich
alter Wein zum Trinken
ich sah die Wolken unter den Hügeln
niedrig! ' tis ein Galanacht
wie ein blanker Mann ich gehen
jetzt, während meine Lippen leben
die Schwärzung
meine Mutter twines mich die Roses, die mit Tau naß sind
zwischen den musing Sonnenuntergang und die Dunkelheit
an der Dämmerung sagte er
innerhalb dieses niedrigen Grabs liegt ein conqueror
sie war eine Schönheit an den Tagen
fette schwarze Dollars in einem Wein-Faßraum

 



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