Luyện nghe bài hát Veshengro

Moon of the is waning to clay
Bavol the wind leap on the way
for Veshengro, oak ash and may
I will not flash the day on the strong
king's
Nor yet the glance on the frightened man
her sweet peace ere she rests on the
of God
With the nutrnegs and of her rosary
That counts the praying
Who earth and water in the hollow of her hand

I was a on a nettled hill
Ten thousand in a nest of fungus paper
And sopping apple held its cider sweet for my thin tongue

I was a at the court of Fionn
I wore the coat of patches with Jalal the stars
Sang at the court of Ain
I baked sweet pastries for the Quenn of
I hid my beneath the stone of lies
Burned at the post my boiling
Made of my eyes

The mystery of it is not revealed
We hear not clear but only with and fear
And the pomp of crime, and the pride of the

I was a monk repelled by a woman's
I sailed in Darwin's ship, a mouse gnawed the grain
by the cook on one dark day
I have with the Thames in much sweeter times
And the Medway where she rolls her waves

The snake-weed is hissing the wind of the
The mountains are where Albion is born
The light rays are gathering where is shown
for Veshengro. oak ash and thorn.