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urdu poetry

Vögel gegen den Aprilwind
drei Tage hörte ich sie, sich Sorgen zu machen, wann ich absolut lege
seien Sie, Leben geduldig, wenn Liebe am Gatter ist
sie muĂź zurĂĽck gehen, sagte sie
KurzschluĂź und sĂĽsses und wir sind zum Ende von ihm gekommen
Schlaf, grauer Bruder des Todes
Hinausschieben, vainly kämpfend
im Bereich
meine zutreffende Liebe von ihrem Kissen stieg
sind Sie lebendig?
ein mit Ihnen

 



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