The peony
Song
The peony, ; She leaned out onto the road, ; My sweet, my beloved ; Break a piece of it. ; I broke it too, ; But I ran away. ; ; In milk, in butter, beautiful morning, ; embrace the one you love. ; I love this, I like this, ; This is my sweet beloved. ; ; If I were money, I would run, ; If I were a rose, I would bear fruit, ; Yet I would turn away.