اصل بول
ENترجمہ ابھی دستیاب نہیں۔ اصل بول دکھائے جا رہے ہیں۔
Mist hangs in the morning
Over beds of roses
My eye closes just to
Open up again
I hear them way up
On the high gazebo
With a spiral staircase twisting
From the brick-laid ground
I hear them with my eyes i
Hear them red and misty and i
Wait for them to kiss me and i
Never make a sound
