Years pass,
storm winds scatter,
with their gusts all my dreams —
But the voice, its tenderness and
The face.
#485 —Scattered Dreams;
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Years pass,
storm winds scatter,
with their gusts all my dreams —
But the voice, its tenderness and
The face.
Unveil
your face tonight,
O diva of my heart,
sing to me the rine and rune of
your love.