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Autumn...
When autumn catches the unwary gardens
All the sightseers leave it to itself
It wails on its fate,
on the destruction of all its blooms
Remembering the spring air
its heart bleeds.........
Can someone assure my weary garden
that spring air is itself eagerly waiting for it
Unless it bears the freezing cold
How can spring air come into its fold…
poem
by
Irfana Ali Bhat
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