
The Bridge
The bridge is worn out, has turned into a mere skeleton trying again and again to cross it, to renew our old relation but each
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The bridge is worn out, has turned into a mere skeleton trying again and again to cross it, to renew our old relation but each
The scene was magnificent. A pyre was burning and the peasants, all drunk, were chanting bolo hari, hari bol; bolo hari, hari bol. Some were