In everything between,
Rivers glow and flow afar,
In everything now seen.
Dreams are like the watery ways,
Every hour they're living,
Meet days
In rays
Those thoughts are endlessly giving.
Every love is singing,
Dreams away from its advance,
Luck of the thousands bringing,
In every their strange chance.
Nights of twinkling's quantity fair,
The peculiar of dimly sights,
Cold air,
Now here
In blackness of the colored lights.
Let me know my coming dreams,
Flowing with the frosty breeze,
Thoughtfully in what it seems,
Fantasies fragilities;
Some are untaught to become true,
Oddly conjecture in their act,
Close to
Till through
Like a glimmer that has been tracked.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem