It is like charming moonlit flowers,
Like crystal freshness of a spring,
Like ancient safe and solid towers,
And like the most fragile thing…
It has the darkness of the cosmos
And summer joy of butterflies,
Contains some wisdom and some nonsense.
Sometimes it hurts but never lies…
It can be light and hot like fire,
It can be full of freezing cold,
Can make your gloomy spirits higher
And can upset you after all…
It swims in clouds, writes the poems,
It paints the pictures on the wall,
It’s full of childishness and romance…
You guessed, I think, it is my soul.