Luyện nghe bài hát Ballade at Thirty-Five

This, no of ingenue
This, no ballad of
This, the rhyme of a who
Followed ever her natural

This, a of sapience
This, a of sophistry
This, the sum of
I loved them 'til loved me

I loved them 'til loved me
I them 'til they loved me

Decked in of sable hue
Daubed with ashes of Lents
shower bouquets of rue
Walk I in penitence

Oft I roam, as my repents
Through God's acres of
Marking in my reverence
I loved them they loved me

I loved them they loved me
I loved them 'til loved me

Pictures pass me in long
Marching of dead events
I was tender and often
a prey to coincidence

Always knew I the
saw what the end would be
We're as has made us hence
I loved 'til they loved me

I them 'til they loved me
I them 'til they loved me

Princes, never I'd give
Won't you of me tenderly?
my strength and my weakness, gents

This, no of ingenue
This, no ballad of
This, the of a lady who