Hear her cry in the darkness of night,
for yet, moon’s not ashamed to give her light,
Wet cover reveals her tale every morning,
She remains wide awake, though all snoring.
Doors remain shut, window’s wearing silk garments,
four walls hiding her away with candle its ornament,
but though in silence one day she heard a song,
she could now hear her heartbeat, it’s been so long.
Undressed the window to look for the owner of that voice,
Who made her stoned heart melt into ice,
A young lad leaning on tree, stood still till horse graze,
All that she could do for now, stand before to gaze.