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Gardener

It was the morning pray of his,
Far from the city and noises, quietly
When he kneeled on the side of grave stone of his beloved.
He did a ripple of conversation with himself, recalled:
His whole aspiration was gone with dismay and perplexity,
His plans for life did not come true! He tried to cry with despair,
He was deadly down and desolated,
Extended his arms and stared himself, by all,
Stared with gratitude to two handful soil in his hands;
Striving years for produces from his garden

For a modest living and happiness. He stared again with anguish to two handful soil,
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