The dream breathed out a sigh.
Saddened by its dark form.
It could not choose its clothing
when emerging from its random
nightly birth. Its nightmarish garb
had caused a lake of fear and its
guilt was a sharp probe needling
under its skin. As it flowed away
from the weeping child it hoped
that it would not have to visit again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem