For as we know from dreams it is so hardTo speak to our dear dead! They disregardOur apprehension, queaziness and shame - The awful sense that they're not quite the same.

I dreamt of you last night - as if I was playing the piano and you were turning the pages for me.

В моих снах мир оживал, становясь таким пленительно важным, вольным и воздушным, что потом мне уже бывало тесно дышать прахом нарисованной жизни.

There are other possible forkings and continuations that occur to the dream-mind, but these will do.

The day, like the previous days, dragged sluggishly by in a kind of insipid idleness, devoid even of that dreamy expectancy which can make idleness so enchanting.