Yesterday I
opened my old
poetry book, when
I found a pressed
autumn leaf.
Its fragrance took
me back in time,
back in that cold rainy day
Then I was so young
and beautiful
when it got caught in
my hair by the
mischievous wind,
bathed in sky's tears.
But now it's dried
And it will never
be as it was before.
Just like me...

And that night, the wind
in the weeping willow
whispered the melancholy
song of how the blue-eyed
girl was gone...

But the sea knew that
the mermaid was in love,
for her singing opened every
seashell to show her its pearl...

Upon a cold
winter's night, on
the snowy path they
wandered.
Deep in the forbidden forest.
The wise old owl that lived
in the tall oak was watching
as he sat on a branch.
Old pine,remain hollow.
He hooted to the
indifferent wind: Who?Who?
But it did not reply,
only whistling was heard
while the pinecones shivered.
The first was dressed in silver,
and her sister dressed in gold.
He stared into the moon,
seeking the truth.
So he discovered the stars
twinkling down upon them,
through the pine needles.
Brown wings of once lost light,
wisdom spoken by the night's silence.
And into the darkness they went,
The wise and the beautiful...