"The soul of old walls" 🗝🚪✍🏻

Among the tall old poplars
Linden sycamore beech trees and wild shrubs
Wild grass growing path frolicsome
Where the old castle cries its ruin

The walls stripped of plaster are emptied with emptiness
Like a beggar who once enjoyed life
And looking at the tears, they do not want to fly anymore
As if he was shouting a shame on what sin

There are breaches around the castle
A souvenir protrudes from the past splendor
And the imagination of a conscious passer-by
In the moonlight he will see crowds of guests

How many sighs came out of the wind
What moves today innocently with leaves
As if this garden has become souls of theater
And the soul was the castle's wind

She comes at night when her heart bleeds
Because he is ashamed of ruin on the day of the white
Wherever you are, something has played here
People and history how the castles will pass away

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