Dreams are like sweet fruit
They're pleasing to the senses
Dreams are enjoyable, wonderful, and unique
They make us feel like we can be loved
They make us feel like we're better than we really are
They make us feel bliss
Dreams are like wisps of smoke
One can only see them for an instant
Dreams are instantaneous, fleeting, and short lived
One cannot hold it
One cannot grasp its meaning
One cannot experience it in reality
To answer Mr. Hughes' question
Nothing happens to a dream deferred
A dream is an intimate fantasy
A dream is a colorful fallacy
A dream is a fancy work of fiction
But what happens to a dream chaser
What happens to those who try to turn fantasy into reality
They find sorrow
They find heartache
They find grief
They waste their searching for a dream
And die chasing a wisp of smoke
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem