اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Behind your window the town is falling asleep.
My path is crowned with stars in a pre-dawn sky...
Your room is flooded with spring morning sunlight
My steps are hidden by december snowstorm
With an old white feather, drowned in raindrops
I write you letters on october leaves.
The winds will retell them to you in dreams
And spring will weave into your hair the song of may
