When the sandman comes tonight
I will keep my eyes shut tight.
For I don't like that gritty feel,
the sandiness that does conceal
what visions lay behind my eyes,
the dreams I have of starry skies,
the dreams I have that leave too soon,
the dreams of being on the moon.
The sandman visits all who sleep.
Into your bedroom he will creep.
He'll sprinkle sand into your eyes
and in the morn you'll realize
that daytime's here. It's time to face
all those in the human race,
going through the day at hand
just waiting for the man with sand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem