Sleep is innocent, sleep has a spell on us,
It is wrong to be unconscious for too many hours;
The destruction of dreams is inspired by battle,
The battle of life has been gained by the unrolled eyes -
We have woken up with unspeakable character,
A necessary boulder to throw at dreamy lusts.
Sleep is a conquest, but it maddens me in the extreme
If the customs of the day are inhibited;
Understand then the comfort of the cherished hours
That the clock ticks from its hands and face.
I am dumb if I express my sleepy feelings,
Never are they felt by the inhabitants of daily life.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem