Thought that forms the world quickens it with sound.
So as eyes turn, all dear to us must change.
In your dreams you're the one they all surround.
Here's balcony beach: the twelve-towered sound
of some child's call maps lengths within its range.
Thought that forms the world quickens it with sound.
BUt wonder-quick, a spine, a strain all hound
wail's the listener's holiday to derange.
In your dreams you're the one they all surround
Put down the book and right now look to ground:
compartmental dreams that none exchange.
Thought that forms the world quickens it with sound.
Yet where's the screaming child? He's homeward bound
deprived response. Your reading fails. It's strange.
In your dreams you're the one they all surround.
A scheme meets scheme and either both confound.
It's human-deviled ways that we arrange.
Thought that forms the world quickens it with sound.
In your dreams you're the one they all surround.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem