The repetitive whirling sound of the fan,
…A beautiful beach with clear waters and sand…
The mushy, stale air locked in the room,
…Or a bustling, lively street filled with people in the noon…
The unchanging white light from the computer screen,
…Hitting the bars with friends partying and drinking till he’s green…
A song playing from the speakers, stuck in an endless loop,
…But even just hopping down the streets, shopping and some sumptuous food …
He awoke from his dream,
Took some clothes,
Took a shower,
Left the room,
And stepped out into reality.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem