You and as for me and the dream it has as for you.
Coming in your sleep,
I could not help but come inside your world.
You asleep the moon upon the pillow,
but only at the center of your cloudy dream.
Although you always knew I could.
Standing at the ease on top your house you knew I would.
My strength is deep in thought,
and even where in thought I come to you in warmth to rest.
Even I have need of sleep though sleep I've naught.
Of the tree out side your window of thine handy branch.
My limbs for thee by thought he trembles with the leaves,
and wind my beard it floats as petals from the roses.
Butterflies and You,
When far off from the heavens there is something by the way,
look up to the sky and mine is blue.
Looking down at all thats inside you.
The growing peacock you have grasped is green not blue.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem