Ever since human beings have had the ability to reason,
they have experienced imaginings and dreams.
Some were compelled to record their fantasies
in whatever form, and by whatever means.
Some transferred their visions of animals and nature,
to painting and carving, which some embellished to extremes.
Some of these records became lost by the passage of time,
only to be rediscovered by searchers and archaeologists.
After carbon dating, research, and time line verification,
they were deemed factual, historical, and of great interest.
However, I'm sure the ancient visionaries never once imagined
their fiction would be anything more than eternally laid to rest?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem