On leaf mused sleeping girl
With hands wrapped in cotton wool clouds,
A drop and touched his face with slight spring
And over on a closed door with the latch candor.

On a stone has rested a passenger
Tired of going through ideas with step dreamer,
I was transmigrate into poetic material,
With stirring poetry ethical layers.

On a cloud has rested crown rain,
Leaking of her hair heroes
Extended liquid
Printing in stripes dirty people.

The orange one has entered a woman
What is scented with the aroma them with atheistic thinking,
I bit of orange in mouth
I taste the sweet and pure woman.