ទេរ

The coconut tree grows low to the river's mouth, it is the source of my soul and my love. _The coconut tree grows low to the river's mouth, it is the source of my soul and my love. _The coconut tree, oh, the coconut tree, don't be dirty. _Help me remember, remember the story of love.

The afternoon is getting dark, my dear.

The moon is gone, the night is gone, I sleep so sadly.

A soft palm tree with soft leaves.

(S): Surya, a traveler in the forest

I don't know how delicious it is, so I don't even bother trying.

(B.S.): The sun is soft and ready to enter the temple.