A sudden chair-dream
An angel was seen,
Slowly did she come,
Holding my feeble hand;
Gazing with thousand deepness; Beckoning me to somewhere, unknown.
I wish she will come,
Perhaps in a milder night,
When calmness will love my room; Only the smaller hand of my watch will run...
Now, around my emaciated wrists
I feel the untouched softness of her hand...
She'll come and take me away
To that unknown world of repose?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem