When dreams come true,
To our life, which is few.
From cradle to tomb,
It is the dream that makes a room.
Days, months and years pass by
But dreams always takes a deep sigh,
It is this dream which helps us to live.
To every new creature,
There is a dream for future.
For it always smiles for our best
Till we finally turn back to dust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It is always we who make the room, nice......irony of life.........