What do you wear to a dream
Full of fancies and things never seen?
To a landscape where heaven must be
Is it proper, to not wear a thing?
What do you think of a cloud
Floating by on a song right out loud?
Where the angels bow low and applaud
For a man without wings born of sod?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
One should always wear their own thoughts like a dream. With no worry of how cloudy they might, to others, seem.