When I wait under the old mango tree
I count the glittering stars far away
And laying on soft sandy soil
I get a better glimpse of the dark skies
The wind is my guest,
She rents her cold self to me,
She whispers tunes of nature
And drag tree leaves to fan me,
It’s an evening of quietness and cold,
Moments of thought wandering,
Of travel through stories and time,
Now the cold night draw nearer
I will watch my beautiful stars glitter
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