thrush.
The singing of the virgin valleys
Della son
beauty of your candor,
among all the flowers, or lily,
you speaking to my heart.
Your gentle fragrance
not objected to Don, you
beautify the room
where I am lonely.
Neither will anyone dare to take away your pretty stellar
painful
the glasses that you wrote the sky.
For me limpid'onda
fed early in the morning, your maternal side
not obliasti at last?
Ouch! Taken to your fellow
abducted at our native land, perhaps you complain you
exile and only me.
Peace; your grief consoled;
you look at my fate: I
deserted and alone I was in my first April here! From a secret
care
point my heart languish
no more serene and pure
is the dawn of my day.
seems to me that I
were kidnapped from another land,
that once in my life shines more light
the sun.
Now here is a cool looking in vain
I go, I seem to be far
who can console me.
Peace; your grief consoled;
you look at my fate: I
deserted and alone I was in my first April here.
Ah! that I gain a heart that no one
comprehending knows?
to you that it should be, or flower
your gentle beauty?
Fragile is the gift, or lily, both unto God trusted
:
a rolling of an eyelid and may
vanished forever.
But among the ranks
eternal angel
that there is no more storm ria
you watch over me?
How much is that lives and breathes in its protection has
Heaven:
man breathing for him, for he is
green stem.
God of '
off its treasures to their children every hour
my virtue refreshment, comfort
your vigor,
and we agree with him
tribute we would like to offer: the perfume you
tui,
and I de' my sighs .
If you are short of words ... say it with flowers!
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