The trembling eyelids, while the moans
Of sobbing grief, you rubbed into my chest,
As blossoms, of kisses, incessantly…
The trembling eyelids, while the moans
Of sobbing grief, you rubbed into my chest,
As blossoms, of kisses, incessantly…
When the deft fingers touch the strings of the heart,
A tone suppressed in tears, emanate from its haggard look.
The roses smell so sweetly Behind the picket fence, The grass is rich and green It gives off a fresh cut scent. The lilacs are in full bloom The veranda has been swept, One glance the eye can see How well the garden has been kept. The shadow in the window Shows an old, but [...]
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