If each breathe is a frozen sleep
If each exhale is a pleasure deep
And if blurs sail over the ocean
And my eyes; the only vision
I see between the lines, in
Hues of blue and azure;
And that side I am allured,
Is dreamt, then I, in my field,
Alone, with tears of hope.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem