After the fierce midsummer all ablaze
Has burned itself to ashes, and expires
In
वह खून कहो किस मतलब का
जिसमें उबाल
Life is full of choices Laid my head upon your chest Your arms encircled me, It was, My Love, as if we we की अब जो इस कदर किया तूने नाचार है, I wish not to love you much, Only to love you well. Much is but a quantity,
Make sure you pick the right one
Don't listen to the voices
Do you remember, when we were young, those promises we made?
The promise to be there for
If I were to write a poem,
It would be a fantastic piece of art,
Many people woul
For you, I open my gate
And wish that you were here,
But you live in another stat
यह अतीत कल्पना,
यह विनीत प्रार्थन
