She is a lovely red rose,
In a thorny bush,
There are thrones all around.
Every day I see her,
The beauty queen,
She moves with winds,
plays with bees,
In winter morning,
In summer twilight,
I see her and see her,
But I can never touch her,
She is my love,
My Aphrodite,
The red rose,
In a thorny bush...
No comments:
Post a Comment