The Wind, that passes by so fleet
The wind, that passes by so fleet,
Runs his fingers through the wheat,
And leaves the blades, where'er he will veer,
Tingling between dusk and silver.
Runs his fingers through the wheat,
And leaves the blades, where'er he will veer,
Tingling between dusk and silver.
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.