This is a pleasant evening,
Jazzy, in a way that makes you dance.
If it were a color, I’d call it transparent blue,
When you could see the reality,
But it would be different, in a nice way.
Let the music roll on, please,
And won’t you dance with me?
We’ve got the hallway and the kitchen
Open and free, for waltzes,
Or a wild, stepless spree,
Or a slow and easy, hold-me-close number.
These moments are so rare, you know.
Let’s steal it for a while.
Lemonade? I’ll make some cookies,
And we can dance all through the hours,
‘Till we’re tired, and then…
How about a movie?
There’s nothing to do ‘till tomorrow,
And I’m in a rare, funny mood.
I’ll put on a skirt that will flare when I twirl,
And if you won’t dance, I’ll dance for you
And you can watch and keep time
By nodding or tapping the table.
Someday, the world will be made anew,
And we’ll have time enough for anything.
I hope then, the evenings will be written
In jazz and dances and lemonade,
And we can stay up late and enjoy the music
And keep time when we tire of dance.
ah, nice work. makes me want to dance-which is rare-and is creates the perfect picture of a jazzy night. bravo!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Sophia, you [continue to] astound me. Love how this flows. And to see you delve deeper into the narrative. best care, sjg