A keresés eredménye oldal 2

To the Edge

Barefoot I'll tread
Right to the edge.
At night, sleep's not coming,
Water is running.
 
Water over pebbles, falling.
The nightingale singing, calling,
Grass underfoot sprawling,
A hurt in my head, unhalting.
 
A cross reddens on the holy bread
In the warm little chamber.
I can't go to my darling
Without waking my father.
 
Water over pebbles, falling.
The nightingale singing, calling,
Grass underfoot sprawling,
A hurt in my head, unhalting.
 
Can't see the edge.
Can't cross the field.
Braids of gold,
Dew of silver.
 
Water over pebbles, falling.
The nightingale singing, calling,
Grass underfoot sprawling,
A hurt in my head, unhalting.
 
My ponderings,
Holy pouch, - burn!
I can't go to my darling
Without waking my father.
 
Water over pebbles, falling.
The nightingale singing, calling,
Grass underfoot sprawling,
A hurt in my head, unhalting.