If my heart is bound to swerve one day;
thou shall never let go of my hand;
nor mourn in the shade of the cypress tree,
for I need thine soul to understand.
Thou shall not seek another,
only hearth shall warm you in rain
Thou shall not hear a nightingale,
lest its song might put you in pain.
Thou shall be the bamboo that bend,
or a field of golden wheat that sway;
haply forthwith the fate shall lend
back to thy arms, I come next day.
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 9:34 PM UTC
If my heart is bound to swerve one day;
thou shall never let go of my hand;
nor mourn in the shade of the cypress tree,
for I need thine soul to understand.
Thou shall not seek another,
only hearth shall warm you in rain
Thou shall not hear a nightingale,
lest its song might put you in pain.
Thou shall be the bamboo that bend,
or a field of golden wheat that sway;
haply forthwith the fate shall lend
back to thy arms, I come next day.
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