Have you ever wondered, of what does the blind man dream? ? ? ?
It can't be of pretty girls’ faces, or the earthly beauties he's seen
Maybe he sees dimensions of honesty, or the color of children’s laughs
Maybe he can still see a woman's beauty, even after her youth has past
Maybe he hears tormented souls crying, or the Devil cursing in his sleep
Maybe he sees haunting twilight specters, that through closed windows creep
Surely it’s a great tragedy, that he’s missed seeing every wonderful thing
Or maybe seeing only what's in his heart, makes him God’s most beloved being
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem