Keeper of my frangipanis,
Though far,
The dark sheen of your cheeks
Melts my melancholy away.
When your flowing hair sweeps over the flowers
Sprouted and bloomed in bereavement,
The snow-laden roads here gather some warmth.
For me, to smile.
Though far,
The dark sheen of your cheeks
Melts my melancholy away.
When your flowing hair sweeps over the flowers
Sprouted and bloomed in bereavement,
The snow-laden roads here gather some warmth.
For me, to smile.
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