There are sleeping dreams and waking dreams;
What seems is not always as it seems.
I looked out of my window in the sweet new morning,
And there I saw three barges of manifold adorning
Went sailing toward the East:
The first had sails like fire,
The next like glittering wire,
But sackcloth were the sails of the least;
And all the crews made music, and two had spread a feast.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem