They are lost, they are awake,
those barren dreams of mine
Someone, I hope, comes from somewhere
to light me up, with sunshine
We are all living, like puppets
in the unforgiving hands of fate
Our strings are lost, in the sands of time,
Luck our life's terms does dictate
Those thoughts, I'd be in a free world,
living the way I wanted to,
Fragrance would fill the gentle breeze
the only sound would be the Cuckoo,
Have just got lost with time
Where, I do not know
My thoughts, of being happy,
did not any trueness show
So, I left dreaming, instead
I hoped what I do flowers
may be one day seeing my work
Luck, finally, on me showers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem