Under the blooming maple trees,
against a field of emerald green.
across a meadow of flowers,
that's where my dreams are seen.
Along a trail of fallen leaves,
beside a clear, cold flowing brook,
you'll see the dreams I have,
but you must truly look.
You can't just gaze and say,
'I cannot see a thing.',
You must know what dreams are for,
and what a dream may bring.
Look close and you will find,
the dreams my heart does hold,
Seize the moment and the dream,
If you may be so bold.
Under the blooming maple trees,
Against a field of emerald green,
Across a meadow of flowers,
That's where my dreams are seen.
Along a trail of fallen leaves,
Beside a clear, cold flowing stream,
Look close! Look hard! You'll see!
The reality of my golden dream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem