As the dawn breaks into the room
I can see where my dream came from
Adjacently with the soft light from the sun
Eyes are cold, staring at the sleeping beauty
My fire still flares up
I drink coffee and get some drug
Wish I could stay longer before it ends
Like riding a jet-car on a long highway
I’m lost when I refuse to wake up
But those faces, those wrinkled skins
Between delicious agony and spiteful memory
Akin to my tongue, where my words born by
Like a fire, like a lie and the canned thoughts
This dream can’t stand alone when it’s drowned
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem