Are my desires still delightful - though impossible:
to be Elizabeth Bennet in Pride and Prejudice and
Miss Marple in frail sleuth beauty - to be at the ball
able to enjoy rock and roll - to win my appreciation
of myself, enjoy my own being without reference to
A point outside - to be in harmony with my soul and
strive to fulfil my own goal - without seeking anyone
else's approval; I'm fighting with the soldiers in the
trenches, yet I still harbour the ideal of a wonderful
trip to Pixie Dell where I can fly with Tinker Bell and
Feel the wonderment of fairies visiting incredulous
human beings; of having fluttering transparent wings
which are carried by the North Wind who will prove
to be my friend - yes, these desires are still intact;
maybe to manifest as a play on stage, illusion and
The imagination; I still dream of merging with these
impossible dreams; I'm still fighting windmills with
Don Quixote - another ideal I will not let go; after
existing in readers' minds for so long, he might be
alive, maybe Don Camillo is lovingly painting the
Image of the Baby Jesus and Comrade Peppone's
helping him, claiming his belief Is beyond religion -
in the goodness of man and Jesus will agree with
him - my desires are still as wide as my reading &
reality is criss-crossed with silvery lines weaving
Our knowledge & stories into exciting new designs…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem