The soul is infinitely fragile and fragile,
and often follows the leaves peeled off,
takes shelter from the wind and loneliness,
before marking them as memories.


Examines every shivering sigh,
embraces every moment lovingly,
in silent words, it weaves sad threads,
and the bright ones, in a love verse.


It is sensitive like a delicate flower,
and lovingly leaves and blooms,
helpless and injured, it bends
under the pressure of hurricane winds.


A soul that has absorbed all earthly feelings---
sometimes it can fly,
and another time it is broken by fatigue,
then calms down and deliberately mourns.