Still I wait and pretend leanings of stupid singing,
Dreams of gold rob me from my sleep as I speak,
And caged animals stand at the doorstep from hours,
Forgetting my forests and jungles lately in my sleep.
Dreams have a bird-cage, interests of flight and ease,
The telephone rings from a computer-way, inner peace
Understands my being of loneliness so wet and tranquil,
This time it rains and dreams of overnight cars and lorries.
I am invited to a heaven and banquets of bed and butter,
Like a bird of prey I control the waking hours of sleep,
Rest is the important might and piety, of this poetry, and the
Sleep must be mastered once I awake from the dream's bed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem