Vain Dreams
Reading edition
The trees, my sisters, robed in white, Now dream of spring; Of sun-lit day and fragrant night, Of birds that sing. They little think that I can tell About their pain; They do not know I dream as well A dream most vain.
Reading edition
The trees, my sisters, robed in white, Now dream of spring; Of sun-lit day and fragrant night, Of birds that sing. They little think that I can tell About their pain; They do not know I dream as well A dream most vain.