When nights had gone darker
I had never felt afraid
To my bed I went straight
Not to sleep or get some rest
It was just to be able to sink
In profound slumber and dreams
Where I could weave fanciful stories
And make hypotheses and antitheses
In order to flee my fake existence
Then I grew up to realize that
Dreamers in this world are the flowers
Blooming over a volcanic land
Dreamers are like the gentle breeze
Refreshing a hot day in summer
Amidst wars and turmoil depression
Dreams sparkle as stars over a wasteland
They nourish a desperate perception
Of the human soul in isolation
Trying to prove its signification
And fit in a world of lust and passion
Dreamers are gifted with that fascination
Able to harmonize severed parts
Between body and soul demands
In the spiritual reconciliation:
A dream waiting for realization.
It was just to be able to sink In profound slumber and dreams Where I could weave fanciful stories..............to flee the harsh realities........... dear poetess. i saw your translation of this poem and since i did not understand it went in search of the original in english.....and found out. thank you very much. tony
Thank you very much Dr.Tony Brahmin. You've really honored me by reading and liking my poems.