Oh, the dream! The dream!
My sturdy gilded wagon
has collapsed,
its wheels have scattered like gypsies.
One night I dreamt of spring
and when I woke
flowers covered my pillow.
I dreamt once of the sea.
In the morning my bed was rich
with shells and fins.
But when I dreamt of freedom
spears surrounded my neck
with morning’s halo.
From now on you will not find me
at ports or among trains
but in public libraries
sleeping head down on the maps of the world
as the orphan sleeps on pavement
where my lips will touch more than one river
and my tears stream from continent
to continent.
~ translated by May Jayyusi and Naomi Shihab Nye, from
This Same Sky, A Collection of Poems from around the
World, selected by Naomi Shihab Nye
