Luyện nghe bài hát The Butterfly

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