It's the dream that determines the direction,
Mind over matter in the shape of a dream,
The afterlife, the present moment,
Owe their stuff to the dream,
Blown up worlds are the stuff dreamers left behind,
Shreds of evidence are revealed from time to time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
somewhat confusing... perhaps I am not sufficiently sophisticted