Luyện nghe bài hát Each Small Candle

Not the torturer will me
Nor the body's fall
Nor the barrels of death's
Nor the on the wall
Nor the night when to the
The last dim of pain, is held
But the blind
Of a merciless unfeeling

Lying in the burnt out
Of Albanian farm
An old
Holds a baby in her arms
A soldier from the side
A man of heart and
ranks, lays down his rifle
And kneels by her

He binds her
He gives her
And calms the crying
She gives him then
Across the divide
He picks his way back through the
of her life
And there at the
The Serb turns..
Turns and waves..

And each small
Lights a of the dark...