-♪ And I'll weave a warm winter-long-felt scarf
for you throughout my father's caravan in the
-♪ Thinking of those lessons tienes de arracabajudas!
Can you tell?
I sit on sacred ground
And the
sound of the river is so beautiful
Even when I close a pair of eyes,
I
still dimly remember
That
beetje winter's white death
My motherTop hat is not made of ivory
The white thread on my mother's hat
is black
In the mid ceremony
of Murong Chölker Festivale
