I saw my dream fly away like a bird that escaped my body.
It is dificult to touch something that can fly like a bird
because dreams are born to live free in the mind,
as the birds to the skies.
You can see the dreams, but from the moment that you try to touch them they disappear...just as the water disappears in the desert if you go close.
Don't try to taste the apple of paradise.
See it but don't touch it.
Because the dreams keep all the secrets and the magic of our lost paradise.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem