Is there a way to translate your soul or intelligence into words??

What a beautiful question! I love your interest in who people are, beneath all the noise and fuss and clutter of stuff.
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Here is my soul, drawn from one of my favourite poems. My soul? Refuses to settle in cynicism because it paralyses us and sucks us dry of life.
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[i]...Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is seared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell: the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.

And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs —
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
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