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urdu poetry

pero no puedo ahora leerle
simplemente hablando
le cuento con
sea paciente, vida, cuando el amor está en la puerta
cuando la noche mandila a lo largo de las calles de la ciudad
con la puesta del sol
el sol está para arriba
mejore que el granito
resido en la montańa de la tabla
el pequeńo lamentable, usado, caras el reír
soy cansado de ser amargo y cansado de ser sabio

 



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