the angels have come this early morning
in the little room
in this little house
in this little island
in my little time
now they are singing the sweetest songs of peace
while i am sleeping
i must be dreaming
pinch me, pinch me
the islands line themselves like boats
like men and women in an array
in the order of things
lining up in this system
they are listening
i must be dreaming
pinch me! pinch me!
wake me! wake me up!
i must be dreaming
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem