Strolling in an orchard,
Seeking to get...
Some fresh peaches to pick.
Strolling in an orchard,
Seeking to get...
Just a few peaches to pick.
But none,
Are yet ripened...
To savor the deliciousness.
No not one,
Is yet ripened...
To satisfy my taste for it.
Or,
The hope I had to lick my fingertips.
Strolling in an orchard,
Seeking to get...
Some fresh peaches to pick.
But none,
Are yet ripened...
To savor the deliciousness.
No not one,
Is yet ripened...
To satisfy my taste for it.
Or,
The hope I had to lick my fingertips.
No not one,
Is yet ripened...
To satisfy my taste for it.
Or,
The hope I had to lick my fingertips.
Peaches. Peaches...
It's just too early to be seeking a peach.
Peaches. Peaches...
It's just too early for a peach to reach.
Peaches. Peaches...
It's just too early to be seeking a peach.
Peaches. Peaches...
It's just too early for a peach to reach.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem