Let me compose,
New songs of springs,
Do not lend my eyes,
Autumnal tinge.
Though there spreads,
All around,
Marshy land of sorrows,
Yet let me listen to,
A prayer,
Of some mother,
And laughter,
Of some child.
Written By Farheen Chaudhry
Translated By Muhammad Shanazar
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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