Retrograde styles standing on their own, beaming notes into my mind and resting on haunches, feeling the vibrations of rhythm.
Sololy, appreciating all the fanfare of lightening, striking my imagination, giving me thoughts of truth and peace and taking me into depths of ingenuity.
Pulling sound like taffy from the atmosphere, gently gyrating to melodies, penetrating the solar system.
Carefully listening as all tones come together, gathering harmony like crops from fields of natural desires.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem