Drifting through this dream of dreams
gazing on what seemed unseen,
Nesting there within my view
lies a longing, which only grew.
Until the moonbeam tones turn down
hearth is buried clear around,
Embers settle as morning sleeps
whispered words, I'll never speak.
Well to let the dream slip by,
within a silenced repressed sigh...
2005
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem