Campo de Sueños

One heals everything when sleeping,
when one sleeps and dreams of that place.
That place of always green fields
and low, solid hills
under a horizontal sky.
One heals everything when inhabiting
a little house with windows
where there's always something to see.

Today I woke up dreaming of the place
where as a child
I imagined I would live when grown up.

The floor in my house is checkered.
Black and white chessboard squares.
With three windows, I live in a small room,
from where I see how
everything is upside down and right side up.
I move forward with my rocking chair,
or backwards, depending on the push
or lean back with my feet.

From my spot, I have a good view.
I have a field of dreams as my garden.
A path of round stones,
that started at my door and winds
snaking to some always better horizon.
Everything happens and goes by daily.
Mornings are eternal,
the wind blows and the sun shines.

There are tales of rabbits, weasels, wolves
and good little foxes that will come for lunch.
According to my understanding, everything is correct,
the cheater falls into the well, the honest one will prevail.

I am a wise gnome when I sleep,
and upon waking up, I find myself
so far from the fields of my dreams.
I became a big, smiling fellow,
and I wonder: what am I doing here?

Don't mind me, I'm just thinking
if the colorful one won't let me sleep.
He appeared and woke me up early
to tell you, brothers... the tales I learned from him.