Pour out thy love like the rush of a river,
Wasting its waters for ever and ever,
Through the burnt sands that reward not the giver;
Silent or songful thou nearest the sea.
Scatter thy life as the summer showers pouring.
What if no bird through the pearl rain is soaring?
What if no blossom looks upward adoring?
Look to the life that was lavished for thee.
—Unknown.
This image does not belong to Belijose’s Fashion Hauz.
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