The somber note at the closing moments of the day,
Escorted by the split of sunny rays I pictured from the bay.
Come after view curled up with the strap-like leaves of cripples waving around,
Veiled by the rich flowers blooming one after the other in a manner partially round,
Followed by the branched clusters on a long leafless stem that stand above the ground.
The secret brook passing through the greener shurbs guiding like a navigator,
Conversing, gushing down like caught in the business of nature.
The solitude of the beaten paths interruped only by the sensible sounds of breeze,
Lifting to the meadow carpeted in grass with velvety ease,
Fragrant with scents of ferns and herbs shooted in the muddy water in a freeze.
My spirit’s essence preoccupied in the
layers of amber forest in meditation,
The harmony of the panorama raised my animation,
I emerged there as the parcel of the potrait
being myself the painter of creation.