The South West Monsoon Wind
V Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
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The breeze blows on the face,
Touching all nodes and nerves,
The drowsy smell that it carries,
Straight enter the halls of preface,
The wind sneaks through the fine hair,
Holding the weapons of terminators,
Destroying the weeds of displeasure,
The mind is rejuvenated with new factors
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