You point my fingers, you show me laughing flowers, smiling buds.
You bend my bow upright, smell the hidden fragrance of loneliness.
You sang on my cheeks longing for the beldu leaves to soften weakly.
Astonished I was amazed, silent.
Whisper to you:
"Garden of paradise, garden of paradise of fine pearls".
You also disappeared.
I'm afraid I'm crazy.