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:

If I were, o my love,
The breeze of a perfumed breath
Brushing against your cheerful mouth
I would become timid and charmed.

If I were the...


:

If I were, o my love,
The breeze of a perfumed breath
Brushing against your cheerful mouth
I would become timid and charmed.

If I were the bee that flew,
Or the seductive butterfly,
You would not see me, frivolous,
Leave you for another flower.

If I were the charming rose
Which your hand placed on your heart
So near to you, all trembling,
I would faint with happiness.

But in vain I seek to please you.
I quite moan and sigh.
I am a man, and what can I do?
Love you . . . tell you so . . . and cry!


 `` (Serenade)     (1880),  ()
50-60- .
: Osobnyak , 05.11.2017 11:53             
 
     

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