Quay lại trang chủ | Luyện nghe Bài Hát

 Mother of the 
 Her  cradle slipping,
 Buds, yawning open,
 welcome by an aging 
 He greets  fondly
 with memories  when
  bows were arms that held him
  a younger man.
 Together,  would marvel at
 the birth  Springtime.
 
 Now he  beneath the apple blossoms
 every year where they  to go walking.
 And he tells Her about  summer and the autumn,
 The winter in his 
  their Apple blossoms.
 
 In summer they would 
 Of  three and smile,
 imagining how round,
 as the  on the ground.
 
 That fall, they loved  waited.
 
 But winter  too soon
 before  seed could bloom.
  wilted from the chill.
 And all felt cold and 
 
 Now he  beneath the apple blossoms
  year where they use to go walking.
 And he  Her about the summer and the autumn,
 The winter  his heart,
 And  Apple blossoms.
 
 As he opened the after, as she 
 He prayed heaven would  waiting to meet her.
 He kisses her cold cheek 
 But he couldn’t surrender the  of staying solace
 So in her fallen hands he placed a 
 from their  tree
 and he laid  to rest
 ‘neath the  of white
 ‘til they’d meet again in the 
 
 Now  stands beneath the apple blossoms,
 Every year where they used to go 
 Walking:
 
  from above she’s always watching
 But her body lies ‘neath  apple blossoms.
 Apple blossoms.
 Blossom.
 Blossom.
 Blossom.
 
 Mother of  Spring
 The slipping bud she 
 Slowly, [they] unopen.
  by an aging man,”
 He greets them 
 Fondly----
 beneath the apple