Oh how I loved to dream and build
fine castles in the air
I started with a tower so high
with flags a'furling there
The walls were made of thinnest tulle
well sprinkled with bright beads
the roof of tasty chocolate bars
fair gardens without weeds
The flowers planted at its base
were orchids, roses rare
green ivy gently graced the doors
by alabaster stairs
One day the moon and sun grew dim
and my world disappeared
that lovely castle crashed in flames
and left me bruised and seared
I crawled on murky ground with ants
as sand spurs cut my skin
the sun returned but now it burned
as moon with nightmares grinned
One windswept night as thunder roared
a whisper welled within
'Why don't you build a house with mud
and from the ground begin? '
'You cannot build a solid home
by starting at the top.
A wise man sweats and digs the earth
pounds nails, lays bricks and chops.'
Today I live in a real house
that stands against the tides
of moons and suns and storms of life
with humble thoughts as guides
So long ago I loved to build
frail castles in the air
and I began with towers high
bright flags a'furling there.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem