From heart to mind,
endless reverie flows,
in time when passion bind,
the strength of men that grows,
at hour of fading tears.
From life to hasten death,
time crooned soporific lullaby in the noon,
when one seldom thinketh days of yore in bed,
gazing at the moon,
scrounging dreams one fears.
From horrid reality into dream,
where men abstain pain,
seeking a little beam,
striving for a gain,
awaiting yesteryear like to glisten again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem