When I wake in the morning, will I find
That this was nothing but a lavish dream,
A magic moment conjured in the mind,
A mirage with a wishful-thinking theme?
Once more, reality the status quo,
A consequence of castles in the air,
A lonesome lover who will never know
The pleasure of the treasure that you bare?
Or will this little miracle prevail,
This little world of wonder never cease,
Will I still drift with no wind in my sail,
Another painted picture, party piece?
I lay my body down to sleep and pray
That you'll still be here at the break of day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wonderful couplets. Shakespeare would be proud.