We hope for a better tomorrow
Yet still borrow from sorrow
Putting thorns in our meadow
Aggravating the pain in our bone marrow
We hope for ourselves the best
Yet we use every day to rest
Fantasizing to have life of zest
Without setting our goals first
We have dreams to be glorious
Aspiring to be very glamorous
Yet we are not very serious
Possessing no particular focus
On how we will be marvelous
We believe ahead of us lies joy
Yet we grip our dreams like toys
We didn't know we were heading into turmoil
Because there is no buoy
We want a magnificent future
But no perfect vision structure
That will possess good features
To make us creditable human creatures
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem