Does Dream Has Brethren? Poem by Edmond Rand

Behold, studied from the forests,
white hair and carry his school books
for me and my child yet sleeping,
And I just heard a voice of male chicken
persecuted each other with stars during the night,
and take a taste from those dance of flowers
in their peace
seems like wanted to cross and covered whole
eye can reach in the morrow
O! my child is awaken yet not,
and I did not see where the stranger threw his
book ready to be readen upon my bed still moist
since night.
And I say as I review reading my all books filled my room,
to their Quiet word, saying: do not you remember this book has nothing
except title and this other one already old as your voice?
Yea, said their promptings to me,
he is already old and still jealous your child's hair
or born with all youth
the first one38 with young pen,
other one with new glasses and that toy your child
cried yesterday.
fortunately, my child is yet sleeping

edmond rand

ary