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UMASHANKAR PANDA
THE WHITE FLOWERS In this blossom I must carry a basket of flowers for you as the flower is a kind of fire that burns the unconcerned bee and helpless butterflies. Shameless is the wicked wind that makes you naked any moment. If I meet Grief this time I shall ask, what is its intention to come so suddenly like the lonely girl carrying white flowers in her hand alone as if a magic wand. Translation : Sanat Das Patnaik |
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