state of mind
رفيييييييييقهيهديكي أغنية "الأمل" لسميح شقيرابو سمير
Hope is the thing with feathers That perches in the soul, And sings the tune--without the words, And never stops at all,And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm.I've heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me.
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رفيييييييييقه
يهديكي أغنية "الأمل" لسميح شقير
ابو سمير
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
Post a Comment