Invocation Lyrics

Song	Invocation
Artist	Abed Azrié
Album	Chants de l'arbre oriental (Remastered 2020)
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作词 : Youssef Al-Khâl
	作曲 : Abed Azrié
	I used to be a little child
	and the strings around my neck, they too were little.
	Eyes were harbors,
	My steps a wave
	and my words a song
	heaven could hear, loved to hear.
	After a while, my beloved grew up,
	migrated,
	rose to my eyelids, shore after shore,
	to my innermost self.
	I then took her in.
	My garden had no fence,
	I raised one,
	my house was made of reeds, had but one room,
	Il became a house of stone, a house of many rooms.
	Every night, I used to waken morning,
	morning now awakes me.
	But what care I, if my beloved loves me!
	She confides in me, in my, in my body.
	She rests her hand upon me,
	silent as candle flame.
	Autumn has come.
	The week of seasons turned
	a thousand and one turns,
	and the road is empty.
	I am alone, all companions gone.
	Lord, when you call me back to you,
	let me keep my beloved, only her,
	so that my words become a song
	heaven ca hear,
	sill love to hear.

	zuo ci : Youssef Al-Kh l
	zuo qu : Abed Azri
	I used to be a little child
	and the strings around my neck, they too were little.
	Eyes were harbors,
	My steps a wave
	and my words a song
	heaven could hear, loved to hear.
	After a while, my beloved grew up,
	migrated,
	rose to my eyelids, shore after shore,
	to my innermost self.
	I then took her in.
	My garden had no fence,
	I raised one,
	my house was made of reeds, had but one room,
	Il became a house of stone, a house of many rooms.
	Every night, I used to waken morning,
	morning now awakes me.
	But what care I, if my beloved loves me!
	She confides in me, in my, in my body.
	She rests her hand upon me,
	silent as candle flame.
	Autumn has come.
	The week of seasons turned
	a thousand and one turns,
	and the road is empty.
	I am alone, all companions gone.
	Lord, when you call me back to you,
	let me keep my beloved, only her,
	so that my words become a song
	heaven ca hear,
	sill love to hear.

	zuò cí : Youssef Al-Kh l
	zuò qǔ : Abed Azri
	I used to be a little child
	and the strings around my neck, they too were little.
	Eyes were harbors,
	My steps a wave
	and my words a song
	heaven could hear, loved to hear.
	After a while, my beloved grew up,
	migrated,
	rose to my eyelids, shore after shore,
	to my innermost self.
	I then took her in.
	My garden had no fence,
	I raised one,
	my house was made of reeds, had but one room,
	Il became a house of stone, a house of many rooms.
	Every night, I used to waken morning,
	morning now awakes me.
	But what care I, if my beloved loves me!
	She confides in me, in my, in my body.
	She rests her hand upon me,
	silent as candle flame.
	Autumn has come.
	The week of seasons turned
	a thousand and one turns,
	and the road is empty.
	I am alone, all companions gone.
	Lord, when you call me back to you,
	let me keep my beloved, only her,
	so that my words become a song
	heaven ca hear,
	sill love to hear.

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