In a deep slumber of sleep,
there is one dream that I keep,
of such beauty and pride,
that only in my head it shall hide.
Mostly forgotten, mostly gone,
All but this, it I've drawn.
I do not lie, for it is true,
It is beautiful and it is you.
Beaux Reves.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem