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摄影绘画时尚 |
My songs beckon softly through
the night to you;
Come to me beloved, below in the quiet
grove!
The rustle of slender leaf tips whispers in the
moonlight;
Do not fear the evil spying of the betrayer, my
dear.
Do you hear the
nightingales call? Ah, they beckon to
you,
With the sweet sound of their singing they beckon to you for
me.
They understand the heart's longing, know the pain of
love,
They calm each tender heart with their silver
tones.
Let them also stir
within your breast, beloved, hear
me!
Trembling, I wait for
you,
Come, please me!