my dreams are made of wires
they rust in the air and in the rain
and i keep them
all these dreams in their own fading
in their own
uselessness when all else fail
and when i am no longer dreaming
my dreams are made of sands
and water and dusts
you know what i mean of course
like the way you feel
when what you dream finally fails
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem