Inside an OYSTER'S SHELL There is a room reserved for me to hide my dreams back to the years of my fatigue. Time only can keep my dreams sweet or bad in its realm behind everyone's IVORY TOWERS got tired or a woman is giving birth to a new baby. May be a new dream generates another dream within a dream and, in a moment turn all our dreams into a nightmare. A dream is not a scary thing, but what's inside the dream itself. Our dreams stream in a creek, in a river, or in an endless sea. Behind our dreams a lot of dawns coming and bringing lives to our loved ones. All things happen in a week or in seven days. Our dreams run away like a thief trying to locate a safer haven. Sometimes dreams come true, but often they come false. To me, I wander when alone looking for a dream never turns itself into a nightmare. In seven days or in a week all things happen to me and to everyone. Only the week has seven days.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem