Luyện nghe bài hát The Guitar Lesson

The pupil is twelve-- attractive,
In a midnight blue school

Lips a little too full for her face
Distant eyes of space

In her posture no of coquette
No

She the frets, looking forlorn
her legs where her tights have been torn

Starts as her mother into the room
And the afternoon grows

And her mother a chill, shivers
And her coat

I correct the curve of her back
And I my back in the now empty flat

At the piece I've had her prepare
And her are bare as she plays

And I draw behind her ear
A few strands of hair gone

She her my bracelet, the lesson is done
I turn it around between and thumb
We sit to face, and it seems to me then
her face is the face of a cat

And touching the where her breasts will be
I my hand flat

She comes my lap
I turn her
Her clasp my neck
And her feet the ground

Her skirt up under my palm
But the pupil sits so calm

As if listening to the distant
Of a alarm

What happened is hard to recall
The guitar lesson no traces at all
But now, from afar, it to resemble
A strange in oil

Of a man, a
And an little girl