Chapter 7 head down

Thoughts fly high, I bow my head, walking slowly, walking slowly, in the course of time My life pursues a hope. beside a gray road I see paths full of flowers: there is a rose full of light, full of life, Also full of bitterness. O woman, you are the flower that blooms in the garden: Like your virgin skin, those roses Indescribably fragrant and delicate, But also full of melancholy nostalgia.