Luyện nghe bài hát The Butterfly

This evening the moon dreams lazily
As some fair woman, lost in deep
With gentle hand listlessly
The contour of her breasts she sleeps
On backs of avalanches soft
She often enraptured as she dies
And gazes on white visions
like a blossoming to heaven rise
When sometimes on this globe, in
She lets a secret tear down, by chance
A poet, set oblivion
Takes in his this pale and furtive tear
This drop where rainbow hues appear
And hides it in his breast far the sun