Luyện nghe bài hát Each Small Candle

Not the torturer will me
Nor the final fall
Nor the barrels of death's
Nor the shadows on the
Nor the night when to the
The last dim of pain, is held
But the blind
Of a unfeeling world

in the burnt out shell
Of Albanian farm
An old
Holds a baby in her arms
A soldier the other side
A man of heart and
Breaks ranks, lays his rifle
And by her side

He her wounds
He her food
And calms the child
She gives him absolution
Across the divide
He picks his way back through the
China of her
And there at the
The Serb turns..
and waves.. goodbye

And each candle
a corner of the dark...