Yet I Feel The Rhythm Of Love
No one can think how my bloods flow on sand
Though trembling winds blow through the vase
Where wonderful spring leaps on my flabby hand
Alas! I am alone I have no friend...
It hurts me, a number of death I face
As I belong to fact of human love:
When she dies down, she blooms in my own race
Alas! I have no way to show my grace...
She calls me once again as if I were dove