Turns again not green,
A leaf broken once;
What desert thence,
What garden, what spring.
...
The broken leaf, with a sigh,
Looked up to the tree:
What was own till yesterday,
Is like a stranger today.
...
Bury me not a broken leaf
In hidden pages of your life;
There is life in me still.
...
Don't fly too high on wings of wax,
A stone you will plummet, no brake;
A mannequin flutter behind the glass,
Tears beneath eyelashes fake.
...
Clouds thundered,
nectar rained,
not a drop
in my hand;
...