Everyone has a dream
Of wings made
Strong or weak to fly
And soar to the limit of the universe
Or sink to the depths of life.
Not everyone stands the heat of the furnace
Burnt and beaten between the anvil
And hammer of time
Tjetes a chosen fate for everyone
Now or later when the last
Breath is spent
And you bear your dreams
Or they die a stillbirth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem