“I wandered lonely as a cloud
As William Wordsworth used to be
But my path was to sneak through the crowd
Instead on Nature focusing my plea.
Roaming crowdedly alone despite
Ignoring children’s childish plays
Admiring all that wonderful sight
Craving for possessing such beauty one day.
No matter how unknown places seemed hostile
Its beauty provided me an accurate way
Should I imagine the curve of your smile
As something sublime to pray?
For small streets can offer inspiration
Yet holding you in my bosom must be the greatest sensation”