I lay in bed, dreaming.
Dreaming of Allen Ginsberg
Of the future
Of travel
Of pine trees in the wind
Of the Rocky Mountains
Of the snow-tipped crags of Scotland
Of Jack Kerouac's adventures
Of the golden peace of the East
Of the Kagyu Samye Ling monastery.
Dreaming of friendship and foes
Of love, of life
Of death
Of the future
Of peace,
Of impermanence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem