Rest at her clay-hut

Downward the blue mountain in the twilight, 
Moon rays paved paved my homeward guide. 
Looking back, I saw my path covered in a shadow.... 
I was passing the clay-hut of my lover girl friend, 
When her grandma  called from a gate vineyard
And led me twining through bright green leaves
Where ripped grapes caught and held my clothes. 
And I was glad of a chance to rest in that dwell
And delighted of a having a vodka  with my girl,
We sang to the melody of the wind in the pines; 
And we finished our songs as the stars went down, 
When, I being drunk and my friend more than joyful, 
Between us we forgot the world and slept together.






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