On the leaves, the rustling wind plays a melody
As the girl looks over this courtyard petite
And exhales, gently dispersing the palm-held blessings —

The entire yard is lit softly,
Like a dandelion bathed in sunlight.

“Is this courtyard a tad too small?”
“It's okay, Clementine,
As long as it provides warmth plenty.”

The girl makes the courtyard tidy,
And in the evernight lands outside the holy city,
There is now a light curing souls' maladies.