Nighttime – a quiet footstep.
Through the rustling grass I see her amber skin,
and my heart forgets the world…
When I remembered to write again,
it was too late.
Her lips had whispered in my ears,
but what they said…
It would need a kiss to tell it again.
Through the rustling grass I see her amber skin,
and my heart forgets the world…
When I remembered to write again,
it was too late.
Her lips had whispered in my ears,
but what they said…
It would need a kiss to tell it again.