I get lazy when a dream of you is being delivered
to me, I find awakening a difficult task,
as I see you in the vision,
bringing a flood of fire,
you leave nothing more to ask.
In a place where the weak sun
lightens enough to see your face,
I find my hands with thousand fingers
insufficient to get your grace.
Before I touch you, I get bounded
by dawn dragging me back to another age.
No touch, no kiss, Alas! no more you!
and my day begins, disappointed, In an awful mood.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem