Luyện nghe bài hát Autumn

Driven by her own sword,
summer last night, alone.
the ghosts
up for warmth.
Autumn has to my hometown.

voices, dead and gone,
singing, of the country down...
(even the ghosts help the barn,
here, now, in my hometown)

--when, out of the
that and bides, in the cold west,
flew a waxwing, who
and against my breast!
All the while, rain,
like a in the tide,
swans and lists,
on the lawns,
tsk tsk tsk.

I may changed. It's hard to gauge.
Time account for how I've aged.
Would I tie your lying tongue,
who says that keeps you young.

I have got no
my heart, over my mind.
Over the hills, the roll.
winter here, wait for a sign

to cast
out, the water,
riven a wishbone.
You'd hardly
I was my own mother's
I ain't given to roam.
I lay low, I return,
and I
a gurney
whose are squeaking,
alone, in my home,
and I laugh,
you speak of my

among the pines,
the lay-lines.
Here, the loon keens.
There, where the leans.
There,
where I know my violent love down,
in a row of silent, days.
Here, in a row of silent, days.

Wherever I go, I am
by of him
I would sun.
I loved all,
one by one.
Cannot ground,
outrun;
but marches along.
You always stick around.
But, the final count is done,
I be in my hometown.
I be in my hometown.