No one can see into my dreams
and so they're mine alone.
I travel places and meet old friends
and some I've never known.
Some are dull and have no color
and some are bold and bright.
They don't seem to fit a pattern
as I wait for them at night.
They jump around from place to place
and sometimes when they're through
I awaken fitfully
for what I would like to do
is go back to sleep and finish my dream
and fashion it to my will.
But dreams cannot be directed.
We do not have that skill.
So I go to sleep not ever knowing
who I will meet or where I am going.
I guess it's the same for you.
So dream my friend. Dream in your bed
and maybe we'll meet, we two.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem