Dreams come true in the middle of the night,
Degrees of vision stir mighty streams of light;
I have doctors in the night sky, with stars
And so their mighty minds can cure the bars.
Dreams will conquer, dreams will hate in time,
But their curing ways state those many in lime;
Instead of advice the nightmares have arrived,
The statements of mighty hearts are derived.
Life of the people is hated and loved at thirst,
Hunger is the factory of the crimes at first;
Lies will continue, turrets of truth will emerge,
Because the dreaming is casting the purge.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem