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- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 2008-02-14 | [Acest text ar trebui citit în english] |
Those blue eyes-how pretty they seem!
As if through is reflected a golden gleam; With all these inherent music they remained still, Till a blink from one did it with water fill. The left face started to grizzle- From the left eye tears began to drizzle, The right face stayed as it was Lack of unique vision as it reflects, Alas! Was that due to some failure or sin? That caused the bellows of emotion rise higher than the eye rims- But the other stayed still and neither did blink- The ball of hope in it hath not yet shrunk. Lot of nectar doth a rose contain, Lack of unique vision of a bee may cause death is certain.
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