Sleeping soundly, listening to adaptations of heaven
as life drifts it's way.
Spirals revolving around sunbeams as I lay sleeping
peacefully.
Gracefully and articulately describing dreams of
existent tomorrows.
Fanning plumes of aristocratic ideas into intuitive
relays of sound.
Eternal sleepiness glides along edges of dreams,
pushing teardrops into future rest of slumber.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem