They say that dreams are ours to own
To unravel the conundrums of the conscious
Once lost in the hubbub of the frontal lobes
Set to unravel in the tranquillity of sleep, but for a moment
No matter, for when the glue of REM loses adhesion
what hope shines when your unconscious mind takes against you?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem