Musical renditions in a language not understood,
leaving my mind on a lone path just listening to
it's music playing gently in the breeze.
Instruments being played with talented fingers of
men, expressing their love of music in notes and
rhythm.
Softly echoing in time, allowing freedom of
imaginative thought to gather it's skirts and
become literature.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem