I walk on the streets of roses On holy lands with defiled hands. I walk without legs with dreams the journey ends where i start. When i come to face reality what will i see? A disappearance! if i should sow in that fertile land in my dream and make estates with high ranks when i come to face reality what will i see? just a cavity! Must reality be thus faraway, when great walls strong cities are built. In its absence the fertile land flowers where roses grow never ill never dying, but when i come to face reality.....not existing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem