Shajar bolta hai . The Tree speaks . It has little option . When autumn wraps it, in blanket of gloom . When spring gifts it a bloom . Silence becomes unbearable . And The Tree speaks . A language of colorful flowers . A language of sweet smell, wafting over the morning breeze . A language of rustling leaves ...
2 Comments:
सुंदर, अतिसुंदर, वाक़ई बहुत बढिया है।
By
Vijay Thakur, at 9:44 PM
वैसे आप अपने स्थल को यूनिकोडित कर सकते हैं।
By
आलोक, at 7:13 AM
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