your routine
catches up with you
you sit on a chair
one night
you stare at the
black skies
and there are
no stars
you imagine
that fireflies
may soon
come to please
your dream
of lights
you imagine
that a moon
shall soon float
on the river
there is none
nothing happens
with your dream
for light
and then you dream
of another
drowsy you dream
you are asleep
you dream you
are dead
and true enough
you never thought
of waking up
because there is
so much
there to be
explored
to be understood
why some people
dream of sleep
dream of dying
why some people
do not talk anymore
and inside that dream
you dream you are
a poet and you see
yourself: writing
simply because
there are no more
stars giving light
to your dark nights
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem