The world is not a dream-
Things are not as specious as they seem.
You and I are real, more real than misty clouds;
More substantive than darkness thunder steals,
More dense than roiling waves that plunder,
More lasting than a faint mirage-
Or lie, that liar's heart assuage.
And tomorrow, if we now should die-
Our corpse more solid, than the potter's sigh
And though we won't recall, that once we lived,
Still some may miss the comforts that we give.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This one is poetry, shear lovely heart involved poetry, from a true master and it brings a tear. Jim Troy