Dream with me

Transparent waters of the river Angst just won't stay still again,
The way they can't be still on glassy rivers
Under the icy crust, so melancholically bright in vain -
Filled with the sharp and freezing breath of wind,
Which leaves the rusty bank with shivers.

Surrounded by lies, we hide here our cuckold eyes:
The thirst for giving guided us that unbelievabely far.
A forgotten paradise becomes a prison in disguise,
The place to open up the healing scar...

So tell me: would you dream tonight with me?
Even when the hand, that cures you with touch, burns,
You'll realise the valley is the only place to be.
So don't wake up - even when the dark frost hurts.

The crystal iceberg waters turned to muddy,
The crispy grass from rusty turned to brass.
Letting go the tired crimson sun to sleep,
Still on the coast, with the pale bruised body -
Then's much easier to feel the biting cold truth of living in past.

Just don't be afraid to dream* with me tonight:
Your underwater secrets here wouldn't disturb the sincerity of sleep,
Though the coast could never tell what's wrong, what's right
We'll drink the sorrow residue to the last sip.

* - и мечтать, и видеть сон (англ.)

* - о многогранности понятия "мечта", ровно как и "сон". Что теоретически должно ассоциироваться только с чем-то приятным, ведь тогда, казалось бы, ты видишь то, что хочешь. На деле же, как и по Лавкрафту, "dream" имеет и болезненную/темную сторону. Ибо подразумевает некоторую наивность, умение удивляться и готовность рискнуть, сбросить свой "панцирь недоверия"