my dream 诗歌

In the stream bubbling along its course,
My past is slumbering,
Just like the pebbles
Silently lying on the riverbed,
And likewise my dream
Has never come to life.

On the trail winding toward no end,
My memory is marked,
Just like the wild flowers
Quietly blossoming and withering by the wayside,
And likewise my dream
Has never attracted a butterfly.

On the hillside with trees verdant and thick,
My hope is planted,
Just like the small pines
Standing evergreen throughout the four seasons,
And likewise my dream
Has once shined like a crystal.

On the light breeze blowing gently,
My yearning is riding,
Just like the strings of the wind
Softly plucking a harmony,
And likewise my dream
Has once played an episode of trills.

On the prison bars as cold as ice,
My teardrops are hanging,
Just like the dew on the balustrade
Uttering no sin