The musician struggles with a tune all night
and tries to keep it near.
Sometimes it slips right through the ear.
At times it's gone I fear.
A cursed blankness creates a loss
and in the morn you sigh.
'Should the theme have ended low
or have taken the notes up high?
That tune is gone but the quest goes on
and the music comes alive.
A theme is finally completed
and so you let it survive.
Over and over it plays in the head
and will not be subdued.
To the musician that wrestled with the notes
the completion is just like food.
So satisfying.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem