 |
 |
 |
 |
My Angel When you squeeze me in your brace, soul vanishes away, without any trace. When you use blush-on and creams, then you are, queen of my dreams. Your softy hands, whose caress I crave, I will get up, even from the grave. You speak so charming, delicately sweet, leave me swept, beneath my feet. To you in this world, there is no compare, you are my Angel, charming fair. When you stand, just by my side, Dear, my heart fills with pride. * Harsh Y Bahl |
 |