You want to enjoy life,
Have water with your ice
(Even though it
Came from your freezer.)
You want compassion from your wife,
Together run from the strife
(Even though it's
The only thing stable!)
You need to see
The green in the trees, not
Brown like all the rest.
You need to fell
That sea-blown breeze, not
The hooves on your chest.
Life is more beautiful than
How you've bucthered it, so
make it art:
Make it a dream,
Not a night-
Mare.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I by all means agree with the end of the poem but quite often nightmares seem easier.