Wrap your troubles in dreams,
Now the grey clouds have gathered.
Flowers, that were once so fragrant,
Have lost their power and withered.
Amphetamine's powdery haze
Has darkened the colour of sleep
The sun's radiant, golden rays
Cannot heal; as they're out of reach.
Wrap your troubles in dreams.
Although wicked demons may cling,
To the pitch- black regions of your heart,
Don't despair there'll be another spring.
Your silver idols now lie broken
In your room; that offers no relief.
So wrap your troubles in dreams
And find new reasons to believe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem