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Prikvačeni tweet
Sweet friends! I am thrilled to share the cover of THE MINISTER OF DISTURBANCES. This book of poems which I wrote at Columbia University with the mystic guidance of the late Lucie Brock-Broido is forthcoming from the marvelous
@DiodeEditions.pic.twitter.com/vRKIvYQNeM
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"I want my work to last. I want to leave the imprint of my personality carved in marble." Anne Sextonpic.twitter.com/GDLAv5seNT – mjesto: Bebek Sahili
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Zeeshan Pathan proslijedio/la je Tweet
I would not think to touch the sky with two arms
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in Nisantasi.pic.twitter.com/gzLyb7or8F – mjesto: Havesomecoffee
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Pain takes time to dissipate. We need a second life to learn how to live without pain. Dunya Mikhail
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From my window in Istanbul. Morning.pic.twitter.com/q1PFlZyu87
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And like snowballs tumbling to stillness, nations stop fighting for a moment because you are beautiful, Larsa. You open your arms, so I know exactly how much I love you. I love you from here to Baghdad and I love you more than all words. Dunya Mikhail
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And I love you higher than the smoke in the city. And I love you louder than the sound of explosions. And I love you deeper than a wound exchanged between Iraqis and Americans next to an explosive shell. Dunya Mikhail
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& like snowballs tumbling to stillness, nations stop fighting for a moment because you are beautiful, Larsa. You open your arms, so I know exactly how much I love you. I love you from here to Baghdad & I love you more than all words. Dunya Mikhail (a poem for her daughter...)
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Every book of poems is essentially a diary. Octavio Paz
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senin aşkın güllerdi bu dikenli hayat bu dünya beni cezalandırdı seni sevdigim icin.
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Olga Boznańska, Study of a Woman with a Girl (Portrait of Woman with a Little Girl) ca 1893pic.twitter.com/fvZ7xAhhT9
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I never found a soulmate. No one was a dream. —Alejandra Pizarnik
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Hvala. Twitter će to iskoristiti za poboljšanje vaše vremenske crte. PoništiPoništi
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He was just an unfaithful boy in my view. Whenever he laughed, he looked like a corpse. Especially when he took you in his arms, This was my tragedy, I wept. Atilla İlhan
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This was my tragedy, I wept. Evenings ended like a novel. Jezabel lay down in blood. A ship left the port. You got up and went to him. You went with your waxen face. You stayed with him until the morning.
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This was my tragedy, I wept. Whenever I passed through Maçka, There were always ships in the port. Trees laughed like birds. You lighted a cigarette quietly. You burned my fingertips. You curved your eyelashes and looked. I felt cold and trembled.
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When your eyes reached mine, This was my tragedy, I wept. I knew that you didn't love me. I heard that you had a lover: A spindly boy, very thin And unfaithful in my view. Whenever I saw him in front of me, I was afraid that I would kill him. Atilla İlhan
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A new poem by my teacher Lucie Brock-Broido in the new issue of
@ltjournal.

pic.twitter.com/Rr3OKbD9Sc
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Zeeshan Pathan proslijedio/la je Tweet
Her marble tears run down her marble face.
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