Alone upon the housetops to the North I turn and watch the lightnings in the sky— The glamour of thy footsteps in the North. Come back to me, Beloved, or I die. Below my feet the still bazar is laid— Far, far below the weary camels lie— The camels and the captives of thy raid. Come back to me, Beloved, or I die! My father`s wife is old and harsh with years, And drudge of all my father`s house am I— My bread is sorrow and my drink is tears. Come back to me, Beloved, or I die!SourceThe script ran 0 seconds.
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