Dreaming an Elusive Dream

But why a dreamer dreams a wild elusive dream,
That he could not grasp on by the grip of his hand?
It goes with the bubbles and ripples of the stream,
Like eagle by the wind it takes off from the land.

The dreamer dreams a dream replete with fantasy,
He’s dreaming a dreamland a palace in the sky;
But a dream is a dream it is full of fancy,
It breaks out with the wind while he’s trying to fly.

How he could fly at all with weak and broken wings?
His dreams turn to pieces and sadly gone away;
Could never be mended with regret then he sings,
The lonely song of fate it kills him day by day.

What a song! What a dream! Elusive though may be,
It is the poet’s life. Do you want it to see?