It’s trembling sadly in the misty air,
It fears to near you and touch your arm.
I squint at it, and I see it get scared.
I remain calm and silent not to harm
The little dream between you and me.
It doesn’t know yet it’s unwanted,
It still thinks it’s beautiful and free,
The little dream I’ve just created
About going for a walk downstream,
About dancing on a forest clearing.
What a poor, little, and unreal dream,
Such nice, such bright, such trusting...
It hides its face in the back of beyond,
It freezes as if it went into a trance.
The little dream seemed true and fond
Yet, yet... it had nothing to do with us...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.