Emily Portman piosenki

Tongue-tied, I am bound To weave my words with thistle down Sickle moon on the moor Turns thistledown silver and fingers raw I dye a thistle thread Red for my mother’s tongue Mother’s words made scavenging birds A wish for a daughter, not 7 sons Rash...

Two little sisters living in a bower Oleanda yolling The youngest was the fairest flower Down by the waters rolling A Noble knight came riding by Oleanda yolling The two little sisters caught his eye Down by the waters rolling He courted the eldest w...