Slow and easy, rhythms then picking up, getting faster like a
locomotive on its way to town, whistle blowing loud and lonely,
touching our hearts along the way.
Showing us the emptiness in our lonely lives, shaking up our
minds and rearranging our thoughts as we listen intently to
their musical rhythms.
Able to create ideas as music continues to play, bringing us
along for the ride all through the afternoon, hoping to go on
until the wee hours of the morning.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem