Thou art arrayed in spotless white,
t'was my only great delight...

The teacher surveys
thick fallen snow with bloodstains...

Wild secret of the trees,
a soft voice to bleed...

If the waives could listen to its own sound,
Would it, do you think, feel mad...

A sorrowful day,
A time of solemnity...

In the stillness of the night,
I am sitting waiting for my knight...

How could I be so in love
I'm like flying as high as a dove...

Here I go again
in my hand is a pen...

Can I be your girl?
Though I don't have...