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urdu poetry

die Dämmerung war apfelgrün
von Fußboden zu Decke
über den Dachspitzen laufen Sie die Schatten der Wolken
Sie sind frei
Frau vermißte viel, wie Sie zu mir benennen, Anruf zu mir
wenig Park, den ich durch führe
ich bin in das Ödland gekommen, weil meine Seele athirst ist
Nobility des Todes wieder
meine ganze Liebe für meinen Bonbon
die Schwärzung rollt aufwärts
ich kann nicht Ihnen jetzt erklären
ich habe das Rennen gewonnen

 



Poetry news via Google, MSN, and Yahoo!

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  • Break Glass in Event of Commitment Emergency - New York Times Blogs
  • The Neoliberal Left and Socialism - Dissident Voice
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  • Entertainment Calendar - Novato Advance
  • You write the reviews: Jack Kerouac and Steve Allen, Poetry for ... - Independent
  • Art and artifacts of black experience come to Norton (Miami Herald)
  • FORMER GARAGE IN BARELAS GETS NEW LIFE IN ARTS - Albuquerque Journal
 

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