Midnight in Slumberland, where still waters run deep
We dream of a million voices, permanently asleep
Midday in townsville, joe soap works there
A place where the truth is changed, and ignorance fills the air
One day, we'll wake up
And tomorrow we'll be free
No Iron Curtains, no iron fists
Just you and me
Midnight in a recap, ambitions lie in the head
But the freedom of speech is an ideal long now dead
Meanwhile in the back streets, injustice through the arm's law
Sowing the seeds of a bloody civil war
And if imagination can take you, to some place you'd rather be;
We'd be living on the edge of the world, life in reality
Forget about watchful eyes, and rooms tortured of souls
O Brother, if there is hope, it lies in the proles!
Only if we lose all our dreams,
Then is power the end, not a means
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
finely coined piece of art of yours. I enjoyed reading.10++++