Стихи на непальском. Пер. Кришна Прасай Непал

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My pen is that body is mine.
Ink - know, my soul. One
will remain one day on a piece, -
soul, a fragile feather.

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If you are soft, the person does not respect.
Cruel stake, he is before you ant.
Be polite, diligent, maybe people will beat,
Allah will raise up a tramp, but for ever!

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Although I was in tatters - I seemed like a prince,
Although I ate stale bread, I seemed to be the Sphinx.
All your life you have been spinning over me - bitch envy
Although I was a starving man - in Finnish ... I seemed.

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