Love is nothing but a dream faraway,
Sometimes though it seems all so plain and true;
And all pure of feelings inside of you,
Like night that is awaken by the day.
When in early dawn it comes to array,
With everything that is there starting new;
When the things of the dark are overdue,
And light with life again will start to play.
The moods of dreams are like the truest love,
You cannot handle with passion alone,
For it flicks with flames in the rooted heart.
All what is real is from it there above,
Giving to a dream quite a different tone,
Life's realities opposite there apart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem