Both white and grey doves are seen,
And roses bloom,
Where waves of the river swerve,
There are seventeen kinds of birds,
And nights have a silver moon,
Where boatmen row their boats,
There washermen dry the coats,
And folk songs are in tune,
Where fishermen catch the fish,
There hundreds bathe and wish,
And temple bells ring so soon.
That is LIME-VILLA the dream,
The tourists are always seeing.
No comments:
Post a Comment