Dreaming is prevision
By the bruised or lonely soul,
Of what in light of day
Most looks impossible.
Haunting is the memory
By the left-abandoned mind,
Of what in light of day
Could not have happened.
Longing is the hunger
Of the interrupted heart,
For what in light of day
So joyfully once was.
Grieving is the contrast
In the weeping eyes,
For when in light of day
All’s cold and bleak and dark.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem