In to the distance I run
Away from the trouble ahead,
Where there is no ambition
Just what my fate will embed.
Let me not go though too far
Come every thought to be true,
So I will have it for memoir
When it is gone and past due.
In to the days there ahead
Hours and my minutes will go,
All what once here was said
Who will then care or know.
Keep though the dreams alive
I have made some of my own,
So when late moments arrive
They're the once that are shown.
In to forgetfulness we must die
Some will though stand for sure,
Why must we say good bye
And what is a dream then all for?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem