Song | The Bolt Of Cupid Fell |
Artist | Darkseed |
Album | Ultimate Darkness |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
作曲 : Hermann, Hertrich | |
When fourty nights shall beside you brow | |
and dig deep wounds in your beauty now | |
Your youth's proud livery so gazed on me | |
tomorrow will be darkened sealed | |
Look how a bird lies tangeled in a net | |
Pure shame and awed resistance made him fred | |
So fastened in her arms the favoured lies | |
She found more beauty in his varied eyes | |
Cut is the brunch that might be grown | |
with you faith, the treasure of your lusty days | |
Then being asked where all your beauty lies | |
I say it to your deep-sunken eyes | |
"As if the dead the living should exceed | |
possessed by heavens heart and hand" | |
He burns with basful shame | |
She with her tears does quench the maiden | |
burning off her cheeks | |
Then with her windy sighs and golden hands | |
to fain and blow them dry again she seeks | |
Look how a painter would surpass his life | |
His art with nature's workmanship at strife | |
In limmming out a well-proportioned steed | |
as if the dead the living should exceed |
zuo qu : Hermann, Hertrich | |
When fourty nights shall beside you brow | |
and dig deep wounds in your beauty now | |
Your youth' s proud livery so gazed on me | |
tomorrow will be darkened sealed | |
Look how a bird lies tangeled in a net | |
Pure shame and awed resistance made him fred | |
So fastened in her arms the favoured lies | |
She found more beauty in his varied eyes | |
Cut is the brunch that might be grown | |
with you faith, the treasure of your lusty days | |
Then being asked where all your beauty lies | |
I say it to your deepsunken eyes | |
" As if the dead the living should exceed | |
possessed by heavens heart and hand" | |
He burns with basful shame | |
She with her tears does quench the maiden | |
burning off her cheeks | |
Then with her windy sighs and golden hands | |
to fain and blow them dry again she seeks | |
Look how a painter would surpass his life | |
His art with nature' s workmanship at strife | |
In limmming out a wellproportioned steed | |
as if the dead the living should exceed |
zuò qǔ : Hermann, Hertrich | |
When fourty nights shall beside you brow | |
and dig deep wounds in your beauty now | |
Your youth' s proud livery so gazed on me | |
tomorrow will be darkened sealed | |
Look how a bird lies tangeled in a net | |
Pure shame and awed resistance made him fred | |
So fastened in her arms the favoured lies | |
She found more beauty in his varied eyes | |
Cut is the brunch that might be grown | |
with you faith, the treasure of your lusty days | |
Then being asked where all your beauty lies | |
I say it to your deepsunken eyes | |
" As if the dead the living should exceed | |
possessed by heavens heart and hand" | |
He burns with basful shame | |
She with her tears does quench the maiden | |
burning off her cheeks | |
Then with her windy sighs and golden hands | |
to fain and blow them dry again she seeks | |
Look how a painter would surpass his life | |
His art with nature' s workmanship at strife | |
In limmming out a wellproportioned steed | |
as if the dead the living should exceed |