We all dream every night,
Unfortunately, we forget
Most of our dreams in the morning,
However, some of us get it:
We remember the path, the right
Track to follow; the graph, the drawing
Is ingenuously stitched by the dreamers;
We want to reach the wonders.
Living is to dream of reaching a goal,
Though we tend to disregard the poll.
When we stop dreaming, we die;
Trust me, that’s not a lie.
Every so often, we live our ordinary dreams,
As we glide with the current of the streams.
As long as we are alive, we won’t quit dreaming,
Guessing, trying and hoping.
It is not a bad thing to dream,
That we can fly away into space with the steam.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem