In the Hands of Dreams

The barriers of the earth—this body’s obstacles—

Pain gathers in the heart; in the hands of dreams,

I wish to lift myself up.

The shadows that fall

On the waves of day and night—for them,

My life remains awake.

If only our minds could surrender completely

To the hands of dreams,

No one would feel pain from the blows of the earth’s days and nights—

There would be no decay in the heart.

Everyone would surrender to the hands of dreams.

Covered by the waves of shadowy skies,

Waiting through the entire day and night,

All the sorrows, conflicts, and realities of the earth

Are forgotten by the heart.

The soul seeks a language,

A desire, a love

That it has searched for across the edges of the earth—

In dreams, they have become true, blossoming into reality.

For all the thirsts of the soul,

Come to the shadows and dreams in search of them—

Come, all of you!

Forget the pains, obstacles, and realities of the earth!

At all times,

Dreams—only dreams—are born

In those whose hearts are open,

Who hold hands with each other

Beside solitary waves—

Under the dim skies of twilight,

Where their desires, births, deaths—all occur—

They do not hear the noise of the earth’s days and nights.

The river waters of evening, the streams over stones,

Like mirrors,

Awaken here and there

For them.

In their hearts,

Dreams—only dreams—are born

At all times…

Upon the walls of the earth,

With crooked, countless letters,

I once wrote the words of my heart—

Those failures

Have been erased by light and darkness.

Leaving behind the bright paths of day,

Going to the gray land of dreams,

The river of the heart’s longing

Raises waves and finds fulfillment—if it does,

Then do not write unclear words

Upon the walls of the earth;

Light and darkness will erase those failures.

The impatience of the earth ceases—

Our heartaches leave the distant dusty paths,

Calling dreams and meditation closer.

The bright days fade away,

Human lifespans come to an end.

The old paths of the earth

Are wiped clean of their traces—

But this world of dreams

Remains forever!

Time’s hand comes and erases everything else—

Even the stars’ lifespans end!

The Realm of Dreams

O dreamers, who drift between realms unseen,

What truths do you seek in the silence of slumber?

Dreams are not mere illusions but bridges—

Pathways connecting the finite to the infinite,

The tangible to the intangible, the known to the unknown.

In dreams, we shed the burdens of the waking world.

Here, there are no walls to confine us,

No chains to bind our spirits.

We soar freely, unencumbered by gravity or doubt.

The heart speaks its purest language here,

Unfiltered by fear or hesitation.

Tell me, traveler, what do you see in your dreams?

Do you walk through fields of golden light,

Or stand on cliffs overlooking endless seas?

Do you converse with ancestors long gone,

Or embrace lovers lost to time?

Perhaps you wander through cities that never existed,

Their streets alive with laughter and song.

Dreams remind us that reality is fluid,

A tapestry woven from threads of perception.

What we call "real" is but one stitch in the fabric,

While dreams reveal the entirety of the design.

They teach us that boundaries are illusions,

That the self extends far beyond the confines of skin and bone.

Look now at the horizon where dream and wakefulness meet—

A thin line separating consciousness from unconsciousness.

Here, in this liminal space, miracles unfold:

Memories resurface, forgotten faces reappear,

And fragments of past lives return to guide us.

Each moment births infinity, each breath holds eternity.

Do you recall the scent of rain-soaked earth,

The warmth of sunlight filtering through leaves?

These sensations linger in the recesses of the mind,

Echoes of experiences etched into the soul.

They remind us that beauty exists in simplicity,

That joy resides in the smallest details.

Yet, amidst the fleeting, there is permanence—

Not in objects, but in essence.

The song of the cuckoo lingers in spring air,

The taste of saltwater remains on sunburnt lips,

The touch of a lover’s hand lives forever in memory.

Such moments transcend time, becoming eternal.

But tell me, dreamer, what will you carry with you

When the final curtain falls?

Will it be regret for roads untaken,

Or gratitude for journeys completed?

Will you mourn the loss of youth,

Or celebrate the wisdom gained with age?

Death is not an end, but a threshold—

A doorway leading to realms unknown.

Just as rivers merge with oceans,

So too does the soul dissolve into infinity.

What fears can bind us when we realize

That we are already part of something greater than ourselves?

Imagine, then, crossing that threshold—

Leaving behind the familiar, stepping into mystery.

Will you meet ancestors waiting to guide you,

Or find yourself alone in boundless light?

Perhaps neither, perhaps both;

The truth eludes definition, defies comprehension.

Yet one thing is certain: love endures.

It flows through veins unseen, binds hearts unbroken.

Even in death, it remains—a beacon guiding us home.

For love is not confined to flesh and bone;

It transcends form, existing beyond the limits of mortality.

So let us live fully, love deeply, dream boldly,

Until the final hour arrives.

Let us cherish the ordinary, for it holds extraordinary grace.

Let us honor the earth, which sustains us,

And the sky, which inspires us.

Let us walk gently upon this sacred ground,

Leaving behind footprints of kindness, not destruction.

When the sun sets for the last time,

May we close our eyes with peace in our hearts.

May we leave behind a legacy of light,

So that others may follow in our footsteps,

Guided by the same eternal spark.

Thus, O dreamer, fear not the end—

For endings are merely beginnings in disguise.

Embrace the journey, savor the moments,

And trust that beyond the horizon,

A new dawn awaits, radiant and infinite.