Do you own your dreams-
And the things you find there;
Do you own the oceans,
Do you own the air?
Might as well own a phantom-
Or a mermaid's hair.
Do you own your wishes,
The secrets that you crave;
Do you own a reverie,
In sleeps cavernous caves?
For nothing can you capture-
Nothing can you save.
When you go to pick your dreams up
At the time you die,
The angels there will whisper,
'We sold them- for a sigh! '
is it not fair, take our souls and our dreams too! ! ! ! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the depth and mystery of things, places, and faces... do we ever truly have or hold anything? good thoughts.