One of those self-same monsters
Was counting sheep in the disturbances
Surrounding the collapse of a deep sense.
And my dynamic imagination felt like
Reading the woolly animals for their brains,
My own disturbances tired afterwards.
Do all women sleep with rules and attributes?
The sharp aroma of coffee awakened in the mind,
Almost hearing noises with eyes and ears.
The tang of orange-juice deliberately sorted
The habits of a century, fully reforming the stay.
Then I fell asleep. I can't remember those
Dreams when he pretended to sleep.
What colour of butter had been open?
I placed a tray onto the heads
With mouth wide open.
I fell asleep with sleep being a provider
As much as gold and silver of dreams.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem