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little words for silence
Not talk
Young heart for love
Not heartache
hair for catching the wind
Not to the sight of a cold world
Kiss, lips are red
he's rest
is still untouched, unveiled
another hand
the hand's still a tool
Drown while they're still blind
while the night still hides the withering dawn
First day of love never comes back
A passionate hour's never a wasted one
The violin, the poet's hand
Every thawing heart plays with care
Kiss, while your lips are still red
While he's still silent rest
While bosom is still untouched, unveiled
Hold another hand
While the hand's still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they're blind
the still the withering dawn…
(Oh…)
Kiss, while lips are still red
he's silent rest
While bosom is untouched, unveiled
Hold another hand
While the hand's still a tool
Drown while they're still blind
while the night hides the withering dawn…
Not talk
Young heart for love
Not heartache
hair for catching the wind
Not to the sight of a cold world
Kiss, lips are red
he's rest
is still untouched, unveiled
another hand
the hand's still a tool
Drown while they're still blind
while the night still hides the withering dawn
First day of love never comes back
A passionate hour's never a wasted one
The violin, the poet's hand
Every thawing heart plays with care
Kiss, while your lips are still red
While he's still silent rest
While bosom is still untouched, unveiled
Hold another hand
While the hand's still without a tool
Drown into eyes while they're blind
the still the withering dawn…
(Oh…)
Kiss, while lips are still red
he's silent rest
While bosom is untouched, unveiled
Hold another hand
While the hand's still a tool
Drown while they're still blind
while the night hides the withering dawn…
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( Traducción Automática )
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