Smoke my dreams through a man-made leave,
Inhale from the air a puppet,
Quite thorough in words your highness observed,
Exhale, then pass, they'll love it,
Ten times a day I'll give them away,
A little piece of my heart to lace with its name,
Sell it all in bags, each dream from today,
Just till tomorrow, so I may die in vein.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem