A bare tree stands,
Whose sole company
Is the memories
Of the joyful songs of the birds,
Of the tender touches of the delicate leaves.

Alas,
All the leaves are scattered,
The birds laid upon the cold ground.

The howling of the wind
Chills his poor trunk.
The tears of the cruel sky
Attach their cold sorrows unto the bleak branches.

But see!
A lonely ray of light,
Piercing through the grey clouds,
Gently brushes the drops of rain.
Drops of rain?
Nay!
For what appears before my eyes
Are drops of rainbow.
Glorious beauty of the heart and the soul.