اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Above silk gardens sweet sins sweep alone
A threat to highborns condemned to atone
Where pallid footsteps of greatness once stroll
And funeral winds in the forests still howl
A single sprout blossom dares not to splinter
Exposed to the wickedness of midnight winter
