A crow in my dream

A Crow In My Dream

Every night I drink the cup of life

Pure water from my own well.

It intoxicates me to the brim

And I am a drunkard of life

Every night I think of my meadows 

Where I clinging to my pop's fingers

Roamed about under the skies blue

Dreaming of soaring into the skies. 

Wings would come from the winds

Beaks from the pointed rocks

Eyes from the tiny little plants 

Legs from the soil I touched on the earth.

Groves would fly under my wings

Rivers make a sky below the lands

Oceans reverberate under the dreams

Cool hands cuddle me in the wind.

Children call out I am a crow

While I, in fact, is a golden bird

A sparrow or a sooty tern

What flies over islands.

Realizing not that I am lonely

I flew in heavens over the isle

Between oceans and a bunch of trees

And my wings are tired to fall.