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My dreams...
My dreams
Oh my brat living dreams, why behave to me?
Like really you are half dead,
And you nervously move around as alarmed,
every time I try to touch,
Do you know?
I feel myself like an empty space in your midst, so
Why do you look at me,
like I'm a stranger from out of space?
Even if you do not want me,
please do not charm to anyone,
Please no more
Because I have suffered enough, more than enough
Whenever your curious shadows tried to follow me…
You wet dreams, distorted, made so by nothing whatsoever…
Do not call me guilty, only because I forgot to play your melody …
You naughty dreams, in this time of monstrous
I will not leave you now on, to look so crooked at me
Dreams, dreams, dreams,
I do not know why I continue talking with you
As long as you are the dreams of dream,
You never matured …
Do you! ? ....
poem
by
Vasil Marku
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