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urdu poetry

into the silent land
the light withdrawn
stir
hang no wreath
wheel me down by the meadow
there's one that i once loved so much
glass-blower of time
i have come into the desert because my soul is athirst
who loves the rain
she must go back, she said
but i cannot read you now
they ask me where i've been
he's gone
three years ago today

 



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