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Ghazal 15 Those faces of death I see sometimes in the rose and tulip but only a few Daughters of the sun behind that sweeping dress what were you thinking coming naked to the night He is the one for whom sleep has widened on whose arm your hair is lying We made breaking the pattern a pattern of living when friends kept dying faith overtook us I have wept for all I have seen I am young these cities should sleep in the dust of desires |