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- queen feristah15
- ölümden korkuyor musunuz11
- erkeklerin her konuşmayı flörte bağlaması5
- matrix te yaşadığımız gerçeği4
- ayı dövmenin aslında zor olmaması10
- hafızayı sildirmek6
- bir kadın uğruna hayatını değiştirmek3
- sözlükten korkmak5
- gerçeğin önemi kalmadığı gerçeği3
- gecenin şarkısı18
- zalbert ramstein4
- ayıyla güreşmek7
- işiniz gücünüz yok mu11
- bir bela geliyor29
- gocu43
- masada aniden ayağa kalkıp şiir okuyan erkek8
- fusya semsiyeli yabanci20
- sözlükte en çok sevdiğiniz olay7
- arkadaşlar çabuk buraya bakın5
- nervio12
- karı diyen öküzleri gırtlaklama isteği10
- eve gelen escorta lahmacun söylemek5
- açık oylayan favlayan msj atan nickaltı giren kız6
- uludağ itiraf15
- bara giden erkeğin asıl amacı7
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- yağmurda ıslanınca murat kekilli ye benzeyen kız4
- mazotun yarım litresi 50 tl24
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- pandela2
- sözlüğün insanı dertlendirmesi5
- duştan yeni çıkmış six packli erkek3
- uludağ sözlük evreni8
- bilin bakalım ben kimin fakesiyim6
- gece dinlenen podcast te anırarak gülen adamlar3
- izmirbeyefendisi'nin şemsiyeli olması6
- kendin hakkında bir entry bırak9
- apo'nun villası11
- arkadaşlar ben yine kilo aldım ya14
- 7 aydır konuşulan kızın true çıkması3
- willem dafoe3
- 195 kaslı pilot14
- erkekler neden evlenmek ister15
- heyt bea gocu mu5
- dizi izlemek4
- donald trump'un türk askerini övmesi10
- arkadaşlar çok kırıcısınız6
- düğününde piste çıkıp kant tan bahseden felsefeci3
- meyhanede masayı yumruklayıp hancı hancı demek3
- hasan atilla uğur14
ingiliz şair matthew arnold ın şiiri.
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand;
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the A gaean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits; on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand;
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the A gaean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furled.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
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