Were dreams but a wind
blowing from the East
being chased by the Sun
pushing my ship
across the mercury seas
from the times which were
to the time which will be.
A small craft
with many, many people
small enough to be ported,
the boat that is,
across the nations
dividing the Earth
to a wind dreamed place.
My Father's Fathers
and Mother's mothers
wished and wondered of
as they huddle bravely
together against loves fire
gazing upward to the lights in the sky,
were dreams but a wind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem