Softly tuning to an inner nature, seeking peace within,
fulfilling obligations as so many duties of this life.
Going deeply to this inner mind, sorting out pictures
of the past, affixing them to pages of memories kept
hidden from view.
Looking ahead to books full of blank, empty pages,
temporarily pasting in dreams, hoping that tomorrow will
bring them into reality, while holding them closely now.
Keeping all hopes and dreams on the fringe of every day
thought and holding them close to the heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
It gives me a nice feeling knowing that the mind still keeps very many hopes and dreams alive with to fulfill them one day. And thus man lives on hopes only