On the first page of my dreambook
It's always evening
In an occupied country.
Hour before the curfew.
A small provincial city.
The houses all dark.
The storefronts gutted.
I am on a street corner
Where I shouldn't be.
Alone and coatless
I have gone out to look
For a black dog who answers to my whistle.
I have a kind of Halloween mask
Which I am afraid to put on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful dream. You can dream any thing and you can be any one in it. Enjoyed. Thanks for sharing.10 points.