A comfortable bed, with the fine touch of feathers,
The warmth of heaven, where my body would meander,
I could dream of anything, anything at all
Of beauty, of lust, of bliss, of all
Of happiness I have always wanted to clasp
But with these worn-out hands, povery is all I can graspI can dream of nature, that is wishing to pass through me
Of the tying clouds, with each turn turning gloomyMy hands can wrap over all of the flowers
Each of their petal, with my touch in delight
But with my shattered eyes, all I can give them is frightOnly in my sleep, I become a dreamer
While I am awake, I feel worse than the reaperMy scent disgusts even the winds
That break upon me
Like my shattered dreamsAnd though my dreams and my comforts are all in a nap
The stale street and its cold is all I can have