Duration 11:24

Photograph poem class 11 english | Hornbill poetry photograph in hindi | English class by Vishal sir

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Published 30 Jul 2020

A Photograph poem class 11 | Hornbill poetry photograph in hindi | English class by Vishal sir Important english video link /watch/Q47q2xYOH40Oq A photograph poem 11 class cbse Vishal Sir /watch/MNxOetj8-bh8O The portrait of a lady hornbill 11class cbse by Vishal Sir /watch/wtTNkmCmzWKmN The tale of melon city Hornbill 11 class cbse by Vishal Sir /watch/wXc0jeiYWAFY0 The last lesson flamingo part 1 12 class in hindi by Vishal Sir /watch/gyBItMS7OXv7I The last lesson flamingo class 12 hindi part 2 by Vishal Sir /watch/g-KaH2FKupAKa my mother at sixtysix poem in hindi class 12 by Vishal Sir /watch/UWzI0vv2F8C2I poem explain in hindi my mother at sixty six flamingo by Vishal Sir /watch/IQIwIIIX3lqXw Note making tips and tricks class 12 cbse ncert bhai Vishal Sir /watch/wvgtQN-ONxDOt The third level vistas class 12 in hindi cbse by Vishal Sir /watch/kE0z43DpWuHpz An elementary school classroom in a slum flamingo 2 lesson by Vishal Sir /watch/ckqP1vwe69ueP keeping quiet poem in hindi class 12 chapter 3 by Vishal Sir /watch/wXc0jeiYWAFY0 the last lesson class 12th explain in Hindi CBSE by Vishal Sir /watch/AaomzDkIXJ8Im the road not taken robert frost class 9 in hindi by Vishal Sir /watch/sbeJF1ZD2n9DJ ThE adventure of foto in hindi class 9 first flight by Vishal Sir /watch/E7OE9o-HNImHE health care class 9 in hindi by Vishal Sir /watch/kheuHrMmj9Rmu class 9 how to look after patient by Vishal Sir /watch/0I9hztpOcifOh dust of snow poem in hindi robert frost class 10 by Vishal Sir /watch/o90SPq-n_jQnS a letter to God full chapter explain in Hindi by Vishal Sir /watch/Q3mySlfct3Vcy for anne Gregory class 10th poem explain in Hindi by vishal sir /watch/kcmfW9B69mu6f a letter to god summary in Hindi by Vishal Sir /watch/geOItVC3ggb3I fog poem explain in hindi class 10 by vishal sir full poem The cardboard shows me how it was When the two girl cousins went paddling Each one holding one of my mother’s hands,  And she the big girl - some twelve years or so.  All three stood still to smile through their hair At the uncle with the camera, A sweet face My mother’s, that was before I was born And the sea, which appears to have changed less Washed their terribly transient feet.  Some twenty- thirty- years later She’d laugh at the snapshot. “See Betty And Dolly," she’d say, “and look how they Dressed us for the beach." The sea holiday was her past, mine is her laughter. Both wry With the laboured ease of loss Now she’s has been dead nearly as many years As that girl lived. And of this circumstance There is nothing to say at all,  Its silence silences.  BY SHIRLEY TOULSON

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