Pallas

Your grace

Is made of olives and wool.

Owls accompany you

As you walk the green hills

Of the Hellenic land.

The feelings you send and convey

Are brighter than solar rays,

You enact all the feminine stregth

And you welcome the courage of games.

While you walk, the nature's in bloom,

And the perfume of summer prevails

Over stuffy and boring rooms,

Sending warm and phenomenal rays.