If only our childhood wonder
Could be what we see and feel,
Not just a fleeting fantasy
We would recolour the sky,
Refusing its patient blue;
Bend the laws of nature
into the curves of our dreams, forever playful,
And ride on creatures unheard of
Birthed from our thoughts—
as though they'd always been.
Then, we would wish our wonder never came true.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem