When the evening wind whispers And the flowers sing melancholy when the ocean sees the nakedness of the moon And the crickets on the hill top whistles when the earth soldiers build their tents behind the pillars of men
When the ocean waves inflict cold to the lonely corners of the Earth When the feet of troop travellers leave their footmark upon the sands of time When the stars of Heaven holds their night shining feast
When the eyes takes their pleasure cover And the body rests from the day battle When nose of men sings horrible tunes my ogle resign not from you You are my little Angel.