Some dreams and dezires that we adorn like pearls ,
Are akin the fresh morning dew drop,
Hanging at the blade of the grass ,
Amidst the chillness of the brume,
Which soon turns into a dewdab ,
On the springy turf,
With the encounter of jeoparadizing mileu.
Never let your dreams drain off.
Even if they evaporate for the time being,
Let them accumulate and later drizzle on the same turf jubiliantly.