Maybe Tomorrow

Maybe tomorrow, I said to myself.

The night was long and silent.

Not cold, it has a gentle touch, gently soothing the injured child in the dream, making people

reluctant to wake up.

Oh, sweet dreams, no one wants to miss it. You need not fear darkness, for it is the mother of

light, you child born of light.

But will it wake up? When the fire was lit, when the dawn ripped through the night, the cold and

bright world began to roar.

Maybe tomorrow, you say to yourself.

Ah, bad alarm clock that you've been wanting to replace.

 The damn sun was already shining on the snow outside the house, and it shimmered so hard to

the eyes.

Put on clothes that no one cares about, go to a place that no one cares about, and play some

scenes that no one cares about. You never love this, it's just another bad day, what a big deal.

That nasty beast and its nasty master never learned how to be quiet.

Alas, maybe tomorrow, you think.

"Tired body, dry eyes, and longing soul. You can pass, next one."

Oh, sweet dreams, no one wants to miss it. You need not be afraid of the light, because it is born

of darkness, you light from darkness.

May it dream long, when the flames go out, when the night covers the world, and the warm and

dark world begins to sing softly.