Just as the ancient winds do blow the needles on the swaying pine
The rhythm makes us flow
The rhythm is divine.
Just as the waves crash on the shore, then wash away without a trace
The rhythm rocks our core
Leaves nothing in its place.
Just as the tall and mighty oak grows from a tiny acorn seed
The rhythm helps us grow
On rhythm life does feed.
Just as the moon controls the tides from up in the heavens so far
This rhythm universal
Makes us who we are.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem