The dream of my sky was taken one long night and from April
and each pliability and gentle nobleness of this which was his/she.
Parting clouds, filled up those of mine and, April and Sunday.
This dream of thought of the old sky and
she rushes in order to keep the song which happiness is distant and excessively is complete.
Well, this dream of the sky was dim and as for her wants, dreamy.
The rainy sky it was wide, as for those my thoughts of it can't hide,
it was sweet,
such was my sweat it was from this now gone the indistinct house.
But my dream was removed
and the naked truth it makes those whom come now more entirely -
My thoughts or there are no lost common times
and when placed in the now,
what now should it play off of, she as it does, looking up at the sky.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem