What rough weather he felt, what tough time hinds
What enjoyment he lost to, the string holder’s spring
Yet this mute world only sees, who the kite is flying!
But the hope of orphan remains, someday he be trying!
Though the song of nightingale now sung by mocking bird
The coin that spins in the air will fall either on heads or tails.
What rough weather he felt, what tough time hinds
What enjoyment he lost to, the string holder’s spring
Yet this mute world only sees who is flying the kite!
But the hope of orphan remains, someday he may try!
Though the song of nightingale now sung by mocking bird
The coin that spins in the air will fall either on heads or tails.