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外链地址
http://www.eemp3.com/audiofile/768b30c9fbd810eb6a91b0f31c5c4c36.mp3
点击复制Tin bends yet never leaves its shine
Its curve recalls the soul’s design;
The forge of pain refines its grace
It learns the warmth of human place
A dent becomes a lunar mark
A bruise transforms the former dark;
The soft outlasts what strength denies
Its will concealed in tender eyes
I hammer hope with measured art
Each blow restores the fractured part;
The edges glow the texture sings
Of quiet might that healing brings
By night the silver holds the flame
It knows no pride it asks no name;
True strength endures where softness calls—
The heart unbends the storm withdraws