It takes lost of pleasure to share music with computers

in #esteem7 years ago

bucolic the moon is my face to, the right and left man's land-straw-nada-field, crack, dew water bucolic moon- The curved of the curved, eyes-than have; Thus he looked at how night-not-written bucolic moon to: 'the sky, under the eat-eat plow lend has been deleted-crop-harvest time came the-chale is when! Grain fruit-you, why but stand one-alone! the right and left straw-shake-man's land-field, crack, dew water! ' ..... i wire say: 'the crop was lavish foley, crop was shocked, how old-old have you been this aged the world's like! eat-eat langar lend has been deleted, how many times-crop time has come, Chale is when! grain bloated the-thou, why but stand alone alone-alone! the right and left man's land-straw-shake-field, crack, dew water the first crop is in the house- the field of field of field drop only the dew water; The thirsty river breath comes in chilling, the bamboo leaves- die grass-sky they, ice, such as the moon squirt; The field is smoky sharp fog, the house is clown; Shocked in-earth- but pie know who the two eyes, not in-sleep any desire. yellow pages crowds, dew feathers, fan the shadow of branch cover, sleeping, and sleeping picture to see-saw bucolic the moon is no longer bucolic stars with arises one ; Saj Mina is the same day like that first crop; the field-field drop this dew tune, what the scent of the night, noon, yellow pages are crowded, dew feathers, jeopardy the shadow of the cover, sleep, and sleeping picture to see-saw , the thunder of the moon and bucolic stars river breath he-night chilling is now bamboo leaf-die grass-sky they, ice, such as the moon cast squirt; The field is smoky sharp fog, the house is clown; The world is shocked, but I found that know who the two eyes, not in-sleep any desire The last time you said- 'one day that time again you come to you if you are- twenty-five years later. "This is why I have come home; Then, how many times the moon and the field-field was there, the mouse-penguin came out of the paddy field, and came; how closed eyes closed and left, how-no one; up i alone; stars that at the sky, his earlier than the time comes in the time, twenty-five years, but where is the end of! Then-day again Yellow grass has filled the field, on, dry bone Fog to-on floating, sparrows broken home the dew was wet-way on the birds egg shell, cold-stale; Shabby-two-a waste of white cucumber, torn fake-dried spider lace-on, cuddly johnnatake way is known , can be seen in a few of the chilling sky guy-rat-pirate in turn is the field-field, particle eat their thirst still methane, twenty-f ive years, but is when the cut up in the heart is the emotion-mountain, such as the cloud with lay comes on midnight or the night of the sky, when you, the world one tonight leave, torn-torn white cloud fear If all is on the moon in the sky, like the sky star has many times- then you when, field Seyre-moon, the world today, and to not, one day, which is-then lost Furaye is-is still you its taste, and once but you have come! They are their field, the story of all the end if a lot, but the rest - you know-in-the world today know what the last time when she has seen the field above: 'one day that time again come thou- came desire if; twenty-five years later. "This is the first time I have come home; then, how many times the moon and they, in the field - the field, dead was, mouse - pine fields in the zodiac quest! Many times the right and left fell asleep to sleep! - Rehilam up i alone-stars that are leaving the sky, his earlier than the time comes, twenty-five years, but where is the end of! - Then - one day again Yellow grass Viëre has the field - page, dry bogs fog side-hand, - Spiked broken home the dew was wet, - the way on the birds egg shell, cold - Shanker, a waste of white cucumber, - torn fake to the spider, - dry of spider ladders - pages; - cuddly johnnarata way is known, can be seen in a few of the cooling sky guy, - mouse - They are in the field - the field, the stomach eat their thirst still, the twenty-five years, but when cut the logentor search today 14 boishakh 1425, the Saturday home page of the poem poetry picture poetry great work of poetry Open story news for us, ads owl (field story) - jibanananda das --- gray manuscripts first crop is the house, - field of the field - the field, drop only the dew water; The river's breath chilling coming bamboo - page - die grass-the heaven they! ice, such as the moon cast squirt! paddy field - the field is smoky sharp fog! the house is clown; Jhimayake a- the earth, - but i know is that the eyes, not in sleep any desire! yellow pages crowd

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