Your mind is lost in the woods of dreams
your tress touching my hands
you are fast asleep in your world,
but your dreams fit into mine.
how much night is the residue,
Outside a rainy sky
A thunderous sky with its load of lightening,
And flute of gales in tree branches..
tomorrow only we will see each other.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem