The hubble tells us where we ought to be.
the dreams moved out west,
into outer space.
the dreams always been higher then i feel seems,
higher then i feel seems,
higher than i feel.
the gold has run dry,
the lakes and streams
and the rivers have run dry,
but its all so high above my head
if only i could touch the sky
its where i want to be
its so much higher,
then i feel i can be
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem