shape in a dream,
fantasize
by hope, viewed
in the mirror of reality
as it bounded to embrace the
vision of the future
dreamer you may call,
catches what it may fall, the
ground wants it to fall; something
that touches the tips to
form a great wisdom of
vision to wait
oh! losing grip,
the finger strength
force to peep, while the blood
pump the heart, the body looks
to flat, what makes then the wind
to passerby at the end;
hail each direction invites
free, where no walls stand to hold
the smooth face induce,
look the clouds cover to see the
sun, everybody claps in the rainbows
hand
blow cool wind
the sitting sun, wants
to dance in the lurking air, waited to
see the glory of the sand
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem