But when the first birds chirped about their eaves,
Night yet is early,
And Banochar's groans to our slogan replied:
Then flung the emptied rinds away
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm
With their shrill repeated cry,
One whistled like a bird.
Cherries worth getting;
seviyede
kuru
But when the first birds chirped about their eaves,
Night yet is early,
And Banochar's groans to our slogan replied:
Then flung the emptied rinds away
With all her matter-of-fact about the ice-storm
With their shrill repeated cry,
One whistled like a bird.
Cherries worth getting;
seviyede
kuru