🍃 L’automne glisse sur les branches
Et les feuilles d’or s’abandonnent au vent,
Comme des messages doux et frêles
Éparpillés sur les chemins dormants.

Galaxies tilt, vast bowls of fire,
offering paths of silver breath;
the universe listens, an ancient choir,
singing gently of more than death.

The wind moves softly, a patient sculptor,
shaping the dark into trembling light;
and hope appears, a quiet cartographer,
sketching new routes on the edge of night.

Hello world!