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Poem No.: 451 النص العربي: لا يوجد

I do not know how to be skilled

In leading your sparrows

To the water in the loneliness of remote night

And in leading your birds to the fragrant flowers

In the loneliness of a stump-nosed night.

I used to have a waste memory

And an impromptu sky.

But when you left away

How had you left the stone cottage' door

Open for the coward tiger,

The drunken lark,

And the head-severed lion?

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