Space Dream

 

Dream of Juang Zhi 

by Lorinc Szabo 

 

Two thousand years before Juang Zhi,

the master pointed to a butterfly,

"In my dream," he said, "I was this butterfly,

and now I feel a but puzzled somewhy."

 

"Butterfly," he told me, "yes, butterfly I was,

who, under the sun, happily danced around,

he had no clue he was Juang Zhi...

Then I woke up... And I don't know now,

 

I don't know," he continued, pondering,

"what is the truth, which I am really:

was it Juang Zhi who dreamt the butterfly,

or is it the butterfly who's dreaming me?"

 

I laughed at him. "Don't joke, Juang Zhi!

Who would you be? You are: Juang Zhi! You are!"

He smiled. "The butterfly in the dream

believed his truth was just as worthwhile!"

 

He smiled, I just shrugged. Then

something still made me shudder,

I've pondered for two thousand years,

but I'm more and more uncertain,

 

and now I think that there is no truth,

now, that everything's just picture and poem,

that Juang Zhi is dreaming the butterfly,

the butterfly him, and all three of us I am.