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Hamed
@hamedns
I ran after it many times in the gardens of Baghdad, but it always flew away Today, after three decades, it sat on my shoulder in a strange land It was blue, like the thoughts of the sea, or like the tears of a dying angel Its wings were two leaves of heaven But why now? Did it know that I no longer run after butterflies? That I only look at them in silence? That I live like a broken branch? Poet: #Sinan_Antoun [Iraq, 1967]
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Mia
@dandelion
Nice šš¾
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