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şeirlər poems
* * *
Your eyes will pierce the road
You cannot even blink your eyelashes
Even in the scorching summer
The snow will land on your face,
And on your palm...
You cannot shake the
cold snow from your palm.
You will be cold in your bed,
Even in the warm room...
* * *
Do not hold this grief,
Do not hold it, let it go
Who speaks about this grief will grow...
If you bare the grief, your chest will grow!
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