Luyện nghe bài hát The Butterfly

This evening the dreams more lazily
As some woman, lost in cushions deep
With hand caresses listlessly
The of her breasts before she sleeps
On backs of avalanches soft
She often enraptured as she dies
And on white visions aloft
Which a blossoming to heaven rise
When sometimes on this globe, in
She lets a secret tear drop down, by
A poet, set against
in his hand this pale and furtive tear
This opal where rainbow hues appear
And hides it in his breast far the sun