Which flower did you get hurt from?
I became a victim of its branch
I
became a victim of its branch
Your tongue calls
to the nightingale
Your tongue calls
to the nightingale
It gives breath to lovers
Seasons are decorated on you
Seasons are decorated on you
They are fed with spring and winter
Rain calls to the cloud
While the cloud says,
my love,
today
While the mountains are shading
While the lover says,
my love,
tomorrow I became a victim of its path
While the cloud says, my love,
today While the mountains are shading
While the lover says, my love,
tomorrow I became a victim of its path
