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.