Marja‘s Zwijmelen op Zaterdag
Love is a many splendored thing.
It’s the April rose,
that only grows in the early spring.
Love is nature’s way of giving,
a reason to be living,
the golden crown that makes a man a king.
Once on a high and windy hill,
in the morning mist,
two lovers kissed.
and the world stood still,
then your fingers touched,
my silent heart and taught it how to sing.
Yes, true love’s
a many splendored thing.