hands cling to hands and eyes linger on eyes ;thus begin the record of our hearts
it is moonlight night of March,the sweet smell henna is in the air,my flute is on the earth and your garland of flower is unfinished
this love between you and me is simple as a song
your veil of safford colour makes my eyes drunk
the jasmine wreath that you wove me thrilled to my heart like praise
it is a game of giving and withholding ,reveaing and screening again,some smile and some little shyness ,and some sweet useless struggles
this love between you and me is simple as a song
no mystery beyondthe present ,no striving for the impossible,no shadow behind the charm ,no groping in the depth of the dark
this love between you and me is simple as a song
we do not stray out of all words into the ever silent,we do not raise our hands to the things of beyond hope
it is enough what we give and we get
we have not crushed the joy to the utmost to wring from it of the wine of pain
this love between you and me is simple as a song |
