Such noise, a cacophony of roaring, senseless sound...
It chases me away to my hiding place.
I sit under a willow
amongst the departed,
hidden from the world,
and disturb their bony silence
with my guitar
and my thoughts.
They don't seem to mind
that I enjoy their company,
but leave me in peaceful contemplation
of god or music and life.
Mother nature is often
my only accompaniment.
The wind in the trees
sings perfect counterpoint
to my lullaby.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem