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º½Ç³°æ ³²¸ð¶óºñ |
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A boatman soaked in the blue water of the Tumen River I'm going to carry my stuff from the old days Where's the ship that's gone Dear my dear, dear my dear Will he always come Even the river chokes at night Even the one who lost his head sighs It's sad to be thirsty for memories Miss you, miss you, miss you, miss you Will he always come |
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ÀÇ°ß(ÄÚ¸àÆ®)À» ÀÛ¼ºÇÏ½Ç ¼ö ¾ø½À´Ï´Ù. ÀÌÀ¯: ±ÇÇÑÀÌ ¾ø´Â ȸ¿ø·¹º§ |
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1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 .. 63 [´ÙÀ½ 10°³] |
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