I am constantly
Enchanted by things that seemed
To be, but perhaps
Never were, in the cold light
Of reality.
O the dark green secrets and
The teeming, deep blue
Surprises of textured dreams,
Are often so hard
To distinguish from daily
Experiences,
That once transpired long ago!
Hazy memory
Blurs all of the boundaries.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem