Every dream I have ever dreamed is merely a memory of something unfound,
But You are the fulfillment of the reality of which dreams can only whisper
You are the joy of hope realized in a world where the hope of hope crumbles
You are the thirst of which all other thirst is a but a shadow
The water that satisfies that which thirst can only imagine
And the hunger for which all food is but the memory of a dream in the morning
I may blow away in the wind of time, returning to the dust from which I was formed
I may disappear into the nothingness from which I came
But if there is any particle of existence, any remnant of thought or matter
The hope and love of the most insignificant remnant will find its gaze in You.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem