Luyện nghe bài hát The Butterfly

This evening the moon more lazily
As some fair woman, lost in deep
With gentle hand caresses
The contour of her breasts before she
On velvet backs of soft
She often lies as she dies
And gazes on visions aloft
Which like a to heaven rise
When on this globe, in indolence
She lets a secret tear drop down, by
A poet, set against
Takes in his hand pale and furtive tear
This drop where rainbow hues appear
And it in his breast far from the sun